


Songs Sung Just Right

by Birdfluff



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2017-09-03
Packaged: 2018-09-13 13:32:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 30,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9125809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Birdfluff/pseuds/Birdfluff
Summary: After Tavish invited Mundee and Emmet to Rene's newly invested bar and in the process met his step-son, Oliver, the two became regulars much to Oliver's delight and much to Rene's disgust, as he watches his step-son fall farther into a possible one sided admiration for the two men.





	1. A Little Convincing

**Author's Note:**

> I said so myself that I wouldn't do/plan another multi-chapter fic, but it's almost 2017 so why not I've had this idea since August. fuck it

“Why do you want me to call him again?” Tavish inquired, quizzically after taking a bite from his burger. He looked towards the Aussie, who sat across from him. He kept one hand on his hat to keep the wind from blowing it off of his head.

“He won't listen to me. We're getting into more arguments and I'm afraid of ruining what we have by saying the wrong thing. Besides, you're the one that came to me about the bar idea in first place, so you should do it.” 

Tavish felt awful for the couple. It was awkward enough having to witness one of their disagreements with Jane when they walked into their house to play dnd. The board game didn't happen and their visit became a group session about what to do, which was incredibly awkward for Tavish since he never had romantic or sexual interest in anyone. Jane seemed to be least likely to help as well, since his answers were mostly to keep arguing until they gave up. Mundee just gave him a stone cold gaze and Jane stayed quiet for the rest of the visit.

Tavish brought his droid out from his jacket pocket. “Alright, mate, I just hope this works.”

“Put him on speaker.”

“Let's see if he actually answers first.” He flipped through his contacts before landing on Emmet Humboldt. The profile picture was pretty goofy. It was rare nowadays to even see him smile.

It took only a while before he picked up. “Hallo?”

“Em, hey, how's it going?”

“Tavish, I can't make small talk right now. If you have nothing to say, I suggest hanging up.”

He saw Mundee frantically mouthing words to him. 'Cut. To. The. Chase.'

“Sorry, man, I'll get to the point. I called you up because, well, it's not exactly good to have you being stressed all the time, you know.”

The voice from the other side of the line was filled with amused annoyance, “I hear that everyday from Mundee, did he put you up to this?”

Mundee who sat across from him quickly shook his head, as the Scott responded, “Of course not! You hurt my feelings, I'm doing this of my own accord, lad. Look, I know a guy—”

“Oh no...”

He frowned at that remark, “Do you not trust me?”

“Tavish, I trust you wholeheartedly, but I hate it when you start sentence with 'I know a guy’. How well do you know 'this guy'?”

“Years, mate! He's just been on the other side of the globe for a while now. He came back only couple of years ago and started up a business. A bar.”

“Congratulations,” the doctor replied flatly. Tavish could hear papers being flipped.

“It's an LGBT+ friendly bar.”

“... You have my attention.”

Mundee nearly had tea spew out of his nose. He swallowed his mouthful as he laughed quietly to himself, covering his mouth.

“Good!” Tavish tried to ignore the Aussie, “It's called 'Arc en ciel'. He's French, by the way.”

“Indeed. You can hardly pronounce it.”

He rolled his eye, “Are you free tonight? Bar's open all night.”

“Ach...” There was some more paper flipping and then mumbling in German, “Should be. Eleven? Have you told Mundee?”

“Working on that now.”

“Good. Are we done? I need to go.”

“We are, lad, I'll pick you both up.”

“Yes, bye,” the phone dial died immediately after his words.

“See?” Mundee smiled.

“Alright, you got me. Poor guy,” he put his phone back into his pocket.

“He's been too much of a workaholic lately that he's never home on time. He needs this.”

“An unhealthy doctor is kind of ironic, eh?”

“A little too ironic. I'm glad he listened to you though.”

“You're both lovers, aren't ya? Why isn't he listening to you?”

“Oh, he is, he just won't take my advice.”

“What if you did what I just did?”

He shrugged, “I get stressed just from arguing with him about anything with his job. I just didn't want to chance this.”

Tavish patted his hand. “Well, maybe, this will help. I'm actually a regular there.”

“Are you now?”

“Course! Tried all of their drinks, really good. I think you'll love their beers. They put cinnamon sticks in there and you can use it as a straw.”

“Why aren't we there now?”

The Scot barked with laughter, “Easy there. You gotta be patient.”

“Alright, alright,” the Aussie smiled again, “Thank you. This means a lot. I should get going though, want me to drive you back to the station?”

“Sure.”

~~~

Tattooing wasn't the most difficult job in world. Not as difficult as being a doctor in a hospital. Either way, Mundee let himself collapse onto the couch and lie there for a few minutes before sitting back up. Eleven, Emmet has said. It was eight thirty now. He better be home by then. He wondered if the doctor remembered to eat. He hasn't been answering his texts either. He better not have muted him.

To his surprise, at five minutes to eleven, he heard the door unlock. Quickly, he got up from his seat and turned the TV off. He watched his lover hobble into the room and shrug out of his overcoat. Mundee had words caught in his throat. His boyfriend looked so exhausted. His hair was plastered to his face. Had he been sweating? It wasn't long until their gazes connected. There was no life behind his eyes.

After another moment, he finally spoke up, “Mundee, you convinced him, didn't you?”

He felt his chest pang, “Darl, I had no idea this place even existed. Why can't you take my word for anything?”

Emmet sighed, an odd frown on his face, “I apologize, I really am sorry. There's a new flu going about and it's tearing me and other doctors apart. I am just worried is all.”

“Why haven't you told me this before?” He apprehensively edged closer to him.

“We couldn't identify what it was at first. My mind couldn't handle the thought of just relaxing. There were people looking like they were on the verge of death, but it looks like we're figuring it out now. It seems to be a mutation of swine flu, but the symptoms don't seem to be too harmful... I need this, I honestly do need this.”

“Have people died on you, Em?”

He gave a mirthless laugh, “Oh, no no. Not yet. It doesn't look fatal.”

“You just get really into your job, don't you?”

He seemed to take the jocular gesture seriously as his eyes widen, “Am I ruining our relationship?”

“Hell no!” He cupped his face, “Look at me. You're not, really, you're not. Oh my god, not even close. You're doing such amazing things and I love you for that. That's not going to ruin anything, darl. Sure, I miss kissing you and getting some attention, but, come on now, I expected this when we started dating. I'm not a possessive brat.”

Emmet chuckled at that, “Danke, mein Engel.”

He was smiling. Thank goodness. “I'm glad you're home though.”

The Aussie stepped into him, giving him a firm embrace to which he returned. He felt his lips lightly kissing up his neck to then whisper in his ear, “Ich bin zuhause.”

~~~

“Here we are,” Tavish smiled at the two behind him who were taken aback by how flamboyant and rather fancy the bar looked, with the cushioned chairs and booths and stools. Reds, blues, and purples were carefully placed as well as the dim fluorescent lights in certain spots on the ceiling gaze it a cozy atmosphere. The song that was being sung on the stage that neither of them recognized was pretty comfortable. It was slow and the singer on the small stage had wonderful pipes that matched the song perfectly. The place didn't look particularly busy for a Saturday night. Mundee tried to avoid crowds as much as possible, so he felt more at ease.

“This Rene certainly has... taste.” Mundee mused. He gazed at the fireman, “Are you sure the alcohol is actually affordable?”

“Haha! If I can afford it, I think you can too.” The Scot shrugged, “he's French, what are you gonna do?”

Emmet had his eyes firmly planted on the stage, “Do bars normally have singers?”

A broad smile spread across his face as he followed the doctor's gaze “Eh, this one is particularly special mostly because it's Rene. That's his youngest son up there singin', Oliver. Adorable, that one. It took me forever to figure out he was flirting with me, but we're pretty good friends now. I think you'll get along great, he's really likeable. That’s Cody on bass, Edwin on drums, and Riley on guitar. Don't know too much about them. They don't seem to stick around when their gig is done unlike Oliver. Go take a seat, I'll get us drinks.”

The couple exchanged glances as the fireman left them. Mundee shrugged before taking his lover's hand and guided him over to an empty table with four seats.

“A little much don't you think?” Emmet mused as he sat down.

“He's French, what are you gonna do?”

“Har, har.”

“Singer isn't that bad either.” 

Emmet followed his gaze up to the stage. The boy had a bright smile on his face, holding on to the mic and the stand as he sung. The dim lights shined on him at the right angle that his freckles were barely visible. In fact, as they gazed at him, he was rather attractive. The buck teeth gave him a charming appearance as well as the gelled back hair. 

“Hm... Oliver, right?”

“Think so. Do you think he's a creep?”

“... Was? Oh, the song.” He giggled, “I'm not sure. Maybe if he says it one more time, I'll consider it.”

Yes, he got the doctor to laugh again. The satisfied feeling was short lived as the Scot arrived at their table, placing their drinks on the table, “On the house.”

Mundee sat up eagerly, “Please tell me this is what I think it is.”

“Do you see the cinnamon stick?”

He quickly snatched the drink and inhaled the scent, “Oh my goood.”

Emmet smiled, “Is it that gross? Should I take it from you?”

The artist playfully slapped his extended hand as he sipped through the straw.

Tavish beamed, “Good, huh?”

“Yes, definitely,” Emmet replied after a long swig,

The song prior must have ended since drums suddenly started up as well as a piano, changing the atmosphere drastically. Mystifying the couple at how low and intriguing his voice became to the ears.

“Mein Gott...”

Tavish smirked at the two men who had their attention solely on Oliver. “He's pretty good, aye? You should hear him sing Tom Jones, but Florence and the Machine is a pretty close second. He likes to end strong. No Light was a pretty good choice, I think.”

“Definitely.” Mundee replied, distantly.

Emmet managed to tear his gaze away from the boy to glance at their friend and glared at his smirk, “What is that for, Tavish?”

He simply shrugged, “'S just cute how you two just gawk at him up there.”

Mundee snapped, a bit louder than he should have, “I was not gawking!”

“You were a little bit,” the doctor patted his arm.

“He directed that at you too, you know.”

Emmet only hummed in response.

“Is this how the song is normally sung?”

“Oh yeah, he tries to not change the octaves unless it's necessary but he can hit the high notes in the song pretty good.” Tavish took another swig, “You'll love this bit coming up.”

It was noticeable that this Oliver used excessive hand gestures and exaggerating his movements. he was especially dramatic as he dipped the mic stand on one particularly long note, he nailed with excellence. He ended up staying on his knees in during of the song. His eyes were sparkling.  
Tavish just grinned at his friends’ totally infatuated faces.

~~~

“Tavish, my man!” Their conversation was abruptly cut off by the lanky young singer, bounding towards their table. He and the Scot exchanged a fist bump. “What took you so long, you're usually here a lot earlier?”

The doctor answered his question for the fireman, “That would be my fault. They were waiting for me.”

Clearly, the boy was not expecting a German accent to come out of the medic by the way he ogled at him.  
Now that he was a lot closer and not semi blinded by the stage lights, he could see the new encounters' handsome faces. He quickly swallowed and nudged Tavish with his elbow, “You gonna introduce me to your friends there?”

“Emmet's a doctor and Mundee's a tattoo artist.” He pointed to the two accordingly. “This is Oliver.”

“Nice. Did you get that from him, Tav?” Oliver gestured at Tavish’s arm that sported an intricate tattoo sleeve.

“That I did,” the Scott patted his shoulder, “C'mon, stop beating around the bush, you know you wanna talk. Sit.”

Grinning from ear to ear, the boy complied, “Yeah, well first things first, I kind of have to ask this, policy, my dad is always excited about new people, so. How do you like it, what could we change, was there anyone bothering you, is my son rambunctious? Blah blah blah.” His hand mimicked a talking motion, before adding in a smug tone, “He's mad he can't fire me. I'm the main reason for bringing customers in with my voice.”

Mundee swiveled his drink, “He's got that right.”

His once cocky expression suddenly disappeared. Oliver could feel his heart pounding against his rib cage, begging to go into his throat.

Oh, this was adorable. To cut the silence, Emmet responded to his previous questions, “I do quite like this place a lot; it has a wonderful atmosphere. And I thought you were fantastic.”

Mundee complied, “Yea, I think we'll be coming back here.”

“I couldn't agree more.”

“Really?” Oliver managed to cough out, “Sure, yeah, I'll tell him that, now I gotta get goin'.” desperate to appear nonchalant, he swung himself out of the chair. He gave them a lopsided smile, “Stay as long as you like. I mean that. Like... seriously.”

Tavish shook his head and spoke soon after he was out of earshot, “You two messed him up.”

Mundee snorted, “Not our fault.”

“We were just talking.” Emmet chuckled before taking the last sip from his drink, “Although, that was precious.”

~~~

“Wait!” 

The couple paused from leaving the bar to see that the Boston boy was behind them, fidgeting in his spot. “I'm sorry, what were your names again? If you're coming back, I have to know.”

Have to? Tavish held back his laugh. That was not part of his policy. To be friendly with the customers sure, but HAVE to know their names? This boy had it bad, didn't he? 

“Emmet Humboldt.”

“Just call me Mundee.”

“Emmet and Mundee? Okay. Um, name's Oliver...”

“We know.”

The boy scratched at his neck, “Oh, uh, right, I guess Tav told you... Aheh, okay, I'll see you... later?”

“G'night.”

“Guten nacht.”

“Uh, yeah! Night!”

Tavish shook his head as they walked away, “You two are terrible.”

Mundee hiccuped, “ _We’re_ terrible?”

“I have never seen the lad so worked up before since the lesbian incident… Well, you can imagine what happened. I don’t think he’d like me repeating it to you two.”

Emmet laughed, “But I’m curious now!”

“Emmet, I know you. I am not telling you that story. You’re going to get me in trouble.”

“That embarrassing? Hm...”

Excited, Mundee flung his arms around the doctor, nuzzling his neck, “There’s my Emmet.”

“Clearly not, I am very much a stranger and you need to go home and sleep, drunkard.”

“Will you come home with me?”

Emmet smiled at that, “Of course.”

The Scot took them both into his arms and tried to swing them around, “The marriage is saved!”

Emmet covered his face, “Oh mein Gott-- We’re not even married yet!”

“Yet?!” The other two exclaimed. From the overhead lights, Mundee’s face looked like a tomato.

“... Yet.”

“Oooooohhhhhh-- Should I drive so you two can make out in the backseat?”

“Yes--”

“No! Mundee!”


	2. No Filming Allowed

“Welcome back, Monsieur Mundee, I notice your significant other isn't with you today.” Rene gave him a sideways glance as he cleaned shot glasses.

Mundee swallowed anxiously at the strange greeting. He took a seat at one of the highchairs, “Uh, yeah, Emmet's not feeling too well today, but he wanted me to come.”

The artist didn't like the owner that much. Something about his snooty attitude towards him through him off. He watched the bartender eye at the tattoos that Mundee wore on his arms and neck than looking him in the eye. “I see. I trust you will not drink too much then?”

“I think, I know better than that, Monsieur Rene.”

This brought his gaze upward and his mouth twitched. “Good. Red Wine then?”

“White.”x

“... Alright.”

Mundee glanced over at the small stage hosting the Boston singer himself. The kid always wore the most gaudy outfits that when the light hit it correctly can strain the eyes. Then again it may be his signature if his band were to grow, to blind his audience. The Aussie smiled to himself when he recognized that the boy was singing Robert Palmer's Bad Case Of Loving You. It was 'their' song. That was the same song that came on the radio after their first date, albeit a little awkward, but it stuck to them like glue.

He flinched at the sound of glass hitting wood. A bit of wine splashed onto the wood and the sleeve of his shirt. “Your drink.”

“...Thanks.” Jesus, they were just tattoos...

His gaze drifted back and forth from the stage to the bar until Rene left this post and disappeared behind a door. Mundee quickly took out his phone. It was probably not as sneaky as he could be; he directed the camera lens onto the stage and began recording.

He sent the footage to Emmet with the text, 'he's singing our song <3'

His reply came soon after, 'that's adorable! He's a very skilled singer'

'Right?'

'Don't drink too much'

'Darl, it'll be a while before then, and I won't be here long'

'Should I be expecting drunk cuddles when you get home?'

'It's just wine, Em, does nothing to me'

~~~

Mundee nearly forgot about his drink as he watched Oliver dance around on stage during the instrumental break. Little glances towards his directions were noticed and noted.

'he likes to swing his hips a lot'

'taking a liking to him are you?'

The artist stared at the response for five seconds, 'maybe'

Emmet replied with a winky face.

He glared at his phone, 'I just think he's cute that's all'

'Mmmmhm'

'I'm not in love with him mate I barely know him'

'We'll see' another damn winky face

Mundee scoffed and turned his attention back on Oliver. The song changed again.

'I think it's eighties night. He's singing Tom jones' move closer'

'nooooooo' He could practically hear Emmet's moaning at the fact that he wasn't there.

'want me to film?'

'yes please'

'k luv'

Mundee filmed snippets of the boy singing two more songs, both by journey, and occasionally replying to Emmet's texts. For the last song of the night, however, he didn't end strong this time. It was Lionel Richie's Hello, which surprised the Aussie. It was an interesting change. Oliver's whole personality suddenly flipped, taking a more submissive approach. Standing close to the stand, his expressions were pretty dramatic for the song but at the same time held some kind of sincerity.

During the instrumental, he merely stood there with his eyes locked forward and his hands traveled to undo three buttons on his shirt. Mundee's heart plummeted into his stomach when their eyes met and the boy started singing again.

As the song ended, the kid immediately drew his eyes to the front and bowed. There was a small applause. Mundee frantically made sure he had filmed that whole exchange and had it sent to Emmet.

He took another swig from his glass, resisting the urge to tap his fingers. His phone finally buzzed.

'What have you done'

'I didn't do anything!'

'You clearly did something those glances were not subtle'

He was laughing, he had to be. Mundee's groan was cut short by the sound of footsteps advancing towards his chair, 'shit he's coming overe'

Mundee heard a Boston filled accent after sending the text, “You know filming isn't allowed unless you're making a blog about us.”

The artist nearly leaped out of his seat and looked over to see the boy in the stool beside him. His face steady became warmer by the second by his smirk. He took one final glance at his phone before putting it away to see Emmet respond with a kissy face. Goddammit. “I-I had no idea... I didn't see any signs.”

“Oh, don't worry.” He winked, “I'll keep it hushed up as long as you do something for me.”

He hesitated to asked, “And... that is?

“Tell me why. _Personal_ use?”

What the fuck did he just hint at-- Mundee shook himself out of it, “… Um, f-for Emmet. That kind of music brings him a lot of nostalgia.”

Emmet? Oliver's mind immediately jumped to multiple conclusions. Were they dating? He managed to appear nonchalant under his panic, “Yeah? Why ain't he here?”

“Working at a hospital can be exhausting.”

Ok, maybe he's just a close friend. Oliver shrugged, “Got a point there. Hey, want me to get you anything?'

“Uh, no, I'm about finished.” He swigged his drink, “Want to sober when I get home, or else Emmet will have my head.”

“Oh, so, you two live together?” He was thankful his voice didn't crack. Shit, are they together? Is it weird to ask that?

“Yea... Do you live here?”

 _Stop with the vague-ass answers_ , he screamed in his head. The singer blinked, “Huh? Yup, few of my brothers do anyway, including me. I mean we got jobs and everything so--”

“But what do you do during the day? When it's not open.”

“Uh, work my day job? I'm a waiter, and I hate it there. I'm not telling you where though.'”

“Why not?”

“No one is allowed to see me work there, it'll ruin my image. So, how long have you been a tattoo artist?”

That was an interesting subject change, but Mundee let it slide. “Quite a while now. I get not a lot of customers compared to Emmet. He's mostly the money maker in our appartment. But I enjoy my work.”

Shit, they are together. I mean that's good, like, good for them but... fuck, is it weird to even personally ask them if their relationship is open? Is that too forward? They've only been coming here for a month. “That's good.”

“How long have you been working here?”

“Mm? Oh! Shit, man, since it opened. At first I was a busboy then a bartender and this year I sent in an audition, which, you'd think I didn't have to because you know, I live here. Rene thought it would be a disadvantage for other teenagers because I'm his 'son'.” He said with air quotes, “I still got the job because no one could ever be compared to my skill. Been singing all of my life, he should've came to me first.”

“Is Rene your step-dad?”

“Yup! Been one since I was a baby. He was never around though. All over the country, not coming by for the holidays. When he came back few years ago, he never and still doesn't treat me like we're family either. He should've have known what he signed up for... Uh, sorry, heh, I'm not even drinking and I'm rambling.”

“It's fine. You're not the only one with dad problems.”

“You talking generally or you got daddy issues?”

“The latter.”

“Mmm. Let me guess, he left you too?”

“Nah, he just didn't like my decisions. First it was not wanting to be a flower arranger then--” His sentence was cut off by the Bostonian's laughter.

“Sorry, a... a freaking flower arranger?”

Mundee surprised him with a beaming smile, “I know right? Yeah, he didn't want me to go to college either. He thought it was a waste of money because he expected me to drop out. I didn't though. Got plenty of scholarships too but,” he shrugged, “I sort of did that because I thought that was what you were supposed to do, you know?”

“Yea, I got ya. I stopped when I finished high school.”

“You mean you're not fifteen?”

Oliver slapped his shoulder, “Shut up.”

“Anyway, he yelled at me when I started becoming a tattoo artist, then when I moved to America just so I wouldn't hear from him again. I still did, my mum still lived there. Then got yelled at more when I started dating Emmet because he overheard me mum and I talking.” He rolled his eyes, “Mum keeps sayin' he loves me but I'm not sure if I believe that.”

Oliver hummed, deciding to change the unsavory topic after a few more seconds, “How did you two meet anyway? It's not every day when a doctor goes and gets a tattoo.”

This brought a little laugh from the Aussie that set the boy's heart pulsing a bit faster. “You're right about that. I remember that he was a walk-in. He came in with his lover, an ex now, obviously. He was a pretty big guy too. I never got the story of how they met. Anyway, they wanted to get matching tattoos. Birds. Literal love birds, it was cute. I don't get those often. I noticed that Emmet had his eyes on me quite a lot and asked me questions mostly about tattoos, so I didn't really think much of it. I really enjoy the time I had with him though, this odd stranger who had a fascination for arts. I remember thinking how adorable he was and how awkward it was for his ex that dawned on me that the doctor probably wasn't interested. But my mind kept going back to how invested he was just to hear me speak. I shouldn't have doubted myself so much. About three months later, he comes back and looked like he'd been crying and asked me if there was anyway to remove or cover tattoos.”

“Ohh...”

“Yeah. I told him that there are certain cosmetics to buy and that there were websites that I could direct him to. He didn't need it to have it done professionally.

~~~

Emmet looked at me after wiping his eyes for a second time, “I'm sorry, I knew. I just don't have the time. I only ever go to the store to get food and then sulk when I get home.”

If there was a customer, having a depressed stranger talking to him about his boyfriend troubles was not good for business. Even my coworkers were giving him sideways looks. “Can I ask what happened? You might need help.”

“No, no, it's just... we had an open relationship and when I took an interest in a certain someone, he backed off. Called him rather insensitive things, he was afraid of me cheating on him even though he said he was okay with it in the past. Maybe he just said that so I could be happy. So I'm just getting the feeling of being lied to for two years, that's all.”

~~~

Oliver stared wide eyed, “Shhhhit...”

“Told you it wasn't a particularly happy story. I said I was sorry that he wasn't loyal.

“As you should be, it is your fault.” He said that with a smile, a very sweet genuine yet albeit afraid smile that surprised me. I'm sure he was scared as hell for another rejection or at least anticipating one. I had no idea how to respond to that.

“I honestly thought you didn't have any interest in me.”

“Have you never been flirted with before?”

“... I have, but you were being subtle about it.”

“No, I wasn't.”

I felt really stupid. “Ok, then, I-I guess I was just doubting my chances.”

“Oh, please, don't doubt yourself. As if I didn't see that face when we first came in here. It was so easy to tell that you were interested. Yes, I was being nice to you, at first, but as you spoke, it became more clear. Is that too corny to say?”

“A little bit.”

“I do honestly want to get to know you, if you are willing to do the same. You have been awfully sweet to this broken hearted doctor to hear me ramble on like this.”

“Well, Emmet, I wouldn't be a good boyfriend if I didn't want to help you.”

“You... you are okay with that?”

“Course.”

“What about open relationships? If you have a problem...”

“I've done this before, Emmet. I know how this works?”

“You have?”

“Yeah, during college. Sort of bound to happen. We were all still angsty little bastards during that time. I know better now.”

~~~

Mundee looked at the eager boy beside him, “And that's when we started dating.”

That answered a lot of Oliver's questions except one. “That's so cute. How long has it been now?”

“Five years.”

“Jesus Christ.”

He chuckled, “Yup, happy couple ever since. We've had a couple of people who joined in but that sort of fell out after a few months. They were after Emmet mostly. They didn't quite understand poly very well even when we explained it.”

“It's not that hard to understand. I've never been in that kind of relationship but I know enough about it that it's honestly not, you know, like fucking geometry. Some people are just stupid.”

It became difficult for Oliver to keep a straight face by the Aussie's smile. “I know... What time is it?”

“You're the one with the phone, wise guy.”

“... Oh. Right.” Mundee cleared his throat and checked, “Yeah, I should get going.”

“You gonna make it home alright?”

“Course I will. I only drank two. Wine does nothing to me.” Oliver's heart stopped when his hand ruffled his hair. “Thanks.”

“F-for what?”

“Being my company.”

“Oh, that's no problem, man. You be safe.”

As he watched the artist leave, Oliver wondered if he was too young for them. They looked to be in their thirties. That would be about a ten year age difference. That shouldn't be much right? The age gap between his parents is about nearly thirteen years. Then again what if they have an age limitation? Even if they didn't, would they want him?

“Been here for a month, just one goddamn month, and look at me. I'm so stupid.”

“You've got that right for once.”

Oliver looked up at Rene, who motioned him to remove his elbows from the counter. The boy complied and glared at him when he opened his mouth again.

“You are too young, Oliver, and you fall too fast. What do you even know about them?”

“Lots of things, do you care enough to listen?”

“No. By your definition of a 'lots of things' means you at least know five short sentences worth.”

“What do you know then?”

“Nothing. Which is what should stay. You, on the other hand, are too friendly.”

“Please, don’t give me that crap. ‘Specially with what kind of bar YOU run. By the way, I’m too friendly? Oh yeah, not like I’ve seen you go googly-eyed at that southern guy, Dell, that comes in every two weeks. Or that Russian guy, I can't remember his name. Oh, and you got eyes for my man, Tavish, now. I see you, Rene, I see you trying to get to know them.”

Rene's face twitched.

“Fuckin' pinned ya, huh?” With a smug grin, Oliver leaped down from the highchair and made his way to the stairwell, “Yeah, I got your number, Rene. Pretty sure you're too old for all of them too. Goodnight!”

“Fuckin' pinned ya,” Angie repeated with a laugh as she removed herself from the kitchen doorway. She patted the Frenchman's back. “It's okay to have crushes, my chair.”

Rene sighed, “Please, mon cheri, I do not need you to join in too.”

“It's cute to see your lil face turn into a turnip though.”

He groaned, covering his face.

~~~

He got another text from Emmet while he was stopped at a light, 'How drunk are you?'

'Lil buzzed but not majorly'

'Oh' there was a pause, 'good'

A small smirk slowly crept onto his lips, 'you wanted me to cuddle you didn't you?'

'No'

'I can chug a beer rn'

'please don't. I need you to be safe'

'<3'

His only reply was a grumpy emoji.

~~~

“'M home.” Mundee waited by the door, but there was no response. He checked their bedroom to see the sleeping doctor.

As carefully and quietly as he could he swapped clothes and crawled into the space beside him. He put his arms around his waist, pecking his neck. A giggle arose from him.

“You're still awake.” Disappointment dripped from his tone. “You had a long day. Why did you wait for me?”

“You reek of alcohol for one thing.”

“I only drank a little.”

“Yes, but did you bath in it?”

“I was in a bar, luv. What do you think they smell like?”

“You need a shower.”

“When I'm done cuddling you, I will.”

Emmet huffed, “That could last for hours.”

“Mmm.”

“How's Oliver? You seem to be quite taken with him.”

A frown tugged at his lips, “I am not. I just think he's cute.”

“Oh, you say that now.”

“Like you won't?”

“I never said anything about me.”

“I don't know what you were doing with those videos I sent you.”

He earned himself a jab in the rib cage.

“Next time though, if you're unable to come, there's no filming allowed.”

“Aw, well, I guess I can see why.”

Mundee smirked at his lover's pout, “That disappointed, luv?”

“I like his singing.”

“So you're in denial too?”

He glared at him even though his smile showed. “Go shower, you dummkopf.”

“That didn't answer my question.”

“And my nose is dying. Shower.”


	3. Risky Business

“You’re here early, Tavish,” Rene glanced up at the fireman, “I don’t think you usually come on this day either. If there is a problem, I don’t think alcohol is going to solve it.”

Tavish looked offended, “You think I don’t know that?”

“You forget that I’ve seen you shitfaced. Red?”

“No, I remember. Red’s fine,” The Scot glanced around the place. Oliver was still at his day job and there were only three visible people at one table. Tavish gazed at the bartender, amused, “Are we done with the cover up now? You called me like there was a fire. I thought I had to get the boys over here.”

Rene looked over his shoulder towards the kitchen door to see it closed then back at his costumer, “It’s about Oliver.”

Tavish grinned, “Sicker than a dog, is he?”

“I’m worried he’s going to make a mistake. He’s at risk enough as it stands. Please, just, tell what you know about the couple you came in with that started this whole charade.”

“Jesus, are you that concerned?” Tavish took the filled glass from the table, “And you’re asking _me_ about _their_ stands of a relationship?”

“Tavish, please. Do you really think I can go up to those two and _ask_? Oliver knows. He has his eyes on me.”

“Heh, oh, I see. He has dirt on you.”

“DeGroot!” He hissed quietly, “Not so loud.”

“Oh-hoho! Easy there, man, sorry. Look, I don’t know how I’d be helpful. I’m not in their relationship. From the look of their previous partners though, they were mostly in their late twenties. From what I’ve seen, they treat ‘em with respect and dignity.”

“They’re too old for him. I don’t care how respectful they are. People are going to think they’re dating a teenager.”

“And he’ll get all pissy if you tell him that, huh?”

“Of course. It doesn’t help that he’s so… so… infatuated with those two. This has been going on for nearly four months and it hasn’t died. Whenever I look over, he’s sitting at their table and talking to them, or he’s trying to stop them from leaving. He’ll hover at the damn door. He’s hopeless and it’s embarrassing.”

Tavish sat in contemplation and took a sip of his wine, “Is it ruining your service? Have you got any complaints about it?”

“.... No. It’s embarrassing to me, Tavish.”

“I thought Angie raised him pretty good.”

“She… Don’t get me in that loop again, please.”

He snorted, “I mean, you are one to talk.”

“And what in the hell do you mean?”

“What’s the age difference between you and Angie?”

“... That is different. We met later on in life, not what’s going on here.”

“C’mon, Rene, you make it sound like the kid is seventeen. He’s only in his twenties.”

He slammed his rag down, “I do not want to see him hurt. You see the way he acts, you’ve seen the incidents he’s caused in this bar, he will hurt himself again if this continues.”

Tavish raised his hands in defense, “Alright, I see your point. But do you really think all that was your fault?”

“It was my fault not to say anything sooner and… Angie encourages him to experiment. I think she gives the boy too much freedom.”

“Better to have too much than not enough, you know. The boy would probably hate you more than he already does.”

Rene was reduced to silence for a solid minute, “I just want what’s best for him. He’s too damn rambunctious and he never knows when to shut up.”

“If that’s the case, it probably won’t work out with them then. Whether you tell him to knock it off or they dump him, either way his heart is goin’ to break.”

“... So you’re saying that there is no way out of this?”

“‘Fraid not. Unless he stops himself but, eh, you know Oliver, he’s a determined lil git.”

“Unfortunately.”

Another waft of silence, Tavish finished his drink. “That pep talk all you needed?”

“That wasn’t a pep talk… but yes.”

“You tried talking about this with Angie?”

“Tavish, have you ever tried talking to a brick wall?”

The fireman held back a laugh, “... You mean Oliver?”

“You now know where he got it from.”

~~~

“You know, I always thought Careless Whisper to be a bland song but...” Mundee’s sentence faded as he quickly took a swig from his glass.

Tavish smiled, “But Oliver makes it better?”

“Yes...”

Emmet laughed, “May I remind you that you did try to serenade me with this song? _With_ your saxophone?”

Tavish snorted loudly as Mundee’s frowning face flushed.

“And may I remind you that you said you’d never bring that up again?”

“I’m sorry, but it was so beautifully ironic.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Oh, come now, mein Schatz, don’t be such a baby.” The doctor pinched his cheek and Mundee without hesitation batted his hand away.

“Aaww, you made him grumpier than usual.”

“Just let him watch Oliver for a bit, he won’t be grumpy for long.”

Mundee lurched out of his seat to try to knock the drink out of the German’s grasp but the doctor was resilient enough to grab his hand before it met the glass. He cackled as his lover tried again in vain.

“You two aren’t even drunk and you’re making a mess!”

“His fault,” the artist grumbled as he sat back down.

“You’ll forgive me. You hold onto such grudges. Learn to laugh at yourself, Mundee.” He gave his shoulder a pat to gain only a mumble as a reply. 

“Doc, don’t be that way--” The music changed drastically to be more peppy and upbeat.

Tavish snorted, “Oh lordy, not this song. Of course, he’d sing this. Hell, I’m surprised Rene greenlit it. He must have changed something.”

It took a moment for Emmet to register the music, “Oh… it’s that tasteless song, is it?”

“Called Talk Dirty to Me for a reason, mate.”

Mundee shrugged, “He looks like he’s having fun with it.”

The doctor glanced up to see him dancing around on the stage, “... Indeed.”

The Aussie smirked at how quickly his lover became entranced, “I see you looking at his hips again.”

His mouth tugged, “... He has nice hips.”

“You keep usin’ that excuse, luv. You ever gonna say that to him?”

Tavish butted in, “I think he’d love that compliment, just saying.”

“Both of you hush--” He paused, “Did he just speak French?”

It clicked with the fireman, “Ohh, that’s right, that how he changed it. I remember now.”

Mundee cocked his head, “Wasn’t that supposed to be Spanish? And he’s sang this before?”

“Yeah to both, just you wait he’s going to sing the next half of the song in French. Rene hates any sort of rap, so lots of changes were made to this song.”

Emmet quirked up a brow, “I see.”

“No Nikki?”

“Pfft, definitely not.”

They only had to wait a minute for the prior mentioned to begin and Tavish adored their astonished, yet entranced expressions.

“Ok…” Emmet sounded breathless.

“He did get a lot hotter or is that just me?”

“Yes, he should take off his shirt.”

“Emmet, darl, that's not what…” He paused to actually think about that, “Yes. I completely agree.”

Tavish just shook his head and drank. Yup, he lost them.

~~~

After the gig was done, Oliver sauntered over to their table, “Gentlemen.”

Mundee roughly elbowed his lover’s side. Emmet gave him a brief glare before saying, “You have very entrancing hips, Oliver.”

Tavish had never seen the boy smile so brightly. “Oh, I know. Liked that show?”

Mundee quickly replied before his lover, “Yes.”

“Don’t hesitate there, laddy.” The Scotsman laughed.

The boy glanced at the fireman before sitting down. His eyes were sparkling. “Good, that’s good.”

The doctor was quick to ask, “Anyway, when did you learn French?”

“Pfff, all my life, man.”

“I see, why do you not do that more often?”

Oliver blinked, “What? Speak French? I mean, I guess I could. No one will know what I'm saying and I only use it whenever there's a song that's too explicit for Rene. Says it’s degrading.”

“I would love to hear a full song in French.”

Mundee piped up, “It was really beautiful.”

Oliver looked over at Tavish again to see him give a thumbs up under the table, “Really? Well, uh.. I'll see what I can do. Just for you guys.”

The fireman patted his back, “I’m surprised you picked that song, Ollie. After what happened when you sung it last.”

The boy smacked his head, “Dude! Don’t bring that up!”

“Was that the lesbian incident?” Mundee took a risk to ask.

His face paled, “You know?!”

“Oi! Calm down, lad, I didn’t say anything other than it was an incident.”

“It was the worst fucking thing, goddammit...” He slammed his hand down before glaring at the Scotsman, “How was I supposed to know she was a lesbian?! Before she told me, making ME look like a dick.”

“She was with her girlfriend! And keep your voice down, she might be here.”

“I swear to fuck, man, if Paula is here.”

“Isn’t that her--? Jesus, Oliver! Get out from under the table, lad. I was just kidding!” 

“Oh god, I feel bad for laughing...” Mundee had his hand covering his mouth.

“Tavish, you’re so cruel!” Emmet criticized, “And you say I’m awful!”

Oliver popped his head back up, “See?? Even Emmet gets it!”

“Then stop falling for it!”

Mundee quickly swallowed his drink before he had the chance to choke on it, “That’s a reoccurring thing?! You’re awful.”

“He needs to learn to laugh at it. May I remind you of my fair share of mistakes, Oliver?”

“Spare me. I’m goin’ to my room.” He bounded away to the corner of the bar where the stairs to their living quarters were.

Tavish rolled his eyes, “He’ll get over it. He can’t hold grudges.”

“I didn’t want him to leave.” Emmet placed his drink back down when he saw Tavish shaking his head again, “What? What?”

“You two have it bad, don't you?” 

Their faces flushed. Mundee immediately responded with, “It’s the alcohol.”

The Scotsman scoffed, “Only I can use that excuse!”

Mundee rubbed his neck, “Ah, bloody hell, we do have it bad, don’t we?”

Emmet took a sip from his drink, “It seems to have developed this way, yes...”

“What do we do?”

The doctor lowered his voice, “We should probably not discuss it here.”

Tavish stretched to check over his shoulder at the bar, “That’d be wise since Rene is in earshot.”

“Indeed, in fact, I think I’m done here. Mundee?”

“Yea, it’s getting late.” The artist said in between yawns.

“Fair enough. I think I’m going to hang out at the bar, though.”

“Alright, Tav, we’ll see you later.”

“Be safe, you two!” He called out as they gave their goodbyes at the door.

~~~

“Rene, another, please.”

Rene took the glass from him hesitantly, “Sounds risky with your track record.”

“Half?”

“Quarter?”

“Not going lower than half, Rene.”

“Fine.” He flipped a tap open.

“So, Rene. How’re things?”

The Frenchman looked up at him, questionably, “Pardon?”

“How are things? How are you?”

“Um. Alright?”

The Scotsman sighed, “You know, most people have left ten minutes ago, you can tell me your life stories again for old time sakes.”

The bartender shifted in place, “Oh… I see, you want to be casual. I’m working, Tavish.”

“Yeah, always are. No matter what.”

Rene’s mouth twitched.

“What happened to the Rene I knew?”

“People change, Tavish.”

“Yeah, that strange worldly trip hit you good. You were all about telling me your life story, before you met Angie, before any of this. I’m tired of pretending you were always like this to everyone else.”

Rene flinched. He released a long exhale, “Tavish… Tavish, I am sorry. But I honestly do not want to talk about it no matter how badly you want me to. It’s too personal. An-- Stop right there, I know what you’re going to say. We’ve always been close, I know. But just because we’re close doesn’t mean I’m comfortable with telling you everything. I trust you. But I do not trust myself.”

He nodded solemnly, “I understand.”

Rene leaned over the counter and gently pecked the side of his lips, “And I thank you for that.”

“Um.”

They turned towards the new voice to reveal, of course, Oliver, who was on the last step on the staircase leading upstairs. Obviously, he looked disgusted.

“The fuck was that?”

“It’s a French thing, Oliver.”

The boy made a face at his step-father.

“Easy, laddy, your old man isn’t hitting on me.” He gulped down the rest of his beer, “Did that to me in the past too.”

This brought him somewhat of a relief if not uneasiness, “Oh yeah, forgot you guys knew each other.”

Rene scoffed, “Yes, before he met you.”

Oliver straightened up, “Alright, don’t have to be so snappy about it! Jesus.”

“You came down here for a reason. What do you want, Oliver?”

“I was gonna make a sandwich?”

“Fine.”

When the bartender looked away, Oliver gave Tavish exaggerated hand gestures towards him with wide eyes and pursed lips. The fireman shrugged helplessly and watched him pass through the kitchen door.

“Love your boy, huh?”

Rene grimaced, “I do… that doesn’t mean I have to tolerate his behavior.”

“Heard that!” The boy yelled.

“It was meant to be heard!”

The Scotsman giggled, “I still love ya, Renny.”

Tavish observed the color slowly appear on his face with a smile, “You’re done drinking, go home, Tavish or I’ll throw you out.”

“You’ll walk me home~?”

“You’re pushing it.”

~~~

Their now and then night walks back to their apartment were always mind numbing, but Mundee could tell that this time his lover wanted to say something just by the downcast eyes.

He gave the doctor a quick nudge with his side, “What’s on your mind, Em?”

“I wonder if this is rushing it. He’s young.”

“He’s twenty-three.”

“Mundee, we have never dated someone that young before.”

“... Point taken.”

“There’s the age difference, overall though from our conversations, highly talkative.”

“Mm-hm.”

“Impulsive to an extent. Not as rambunctious as Rene continues to say. Do you?”

“Find him rambunctious? No.”

“Alright… We know him to be open minded. He’s super sweet not just to us. He seems to be presumptuous.”

“Just a bit.”

“However, I don’t think he’s ever said if he has dated anyone.”

“You got a point there, darl.”

“Do you think he has?”

“One way to find out.”

Emmet looked at him, stunned, “You’re not suggesting we ask?”

“We can ask Tavish?”

“Oh… that too. That seems a bit… I don’t know.”

“Doesn’t feel right?”

“Yes, I don’t like using our friend as a source of knowing Oliver.”

“No, I totally get that.” After a short silence, he snapped his fingers, “I got it. Why don’t we set something up?”

“Keep going.”

“Like a sort of date? Okay, maybe not initially a date, but just to see more of him. Get him out of his comfort zone.”

“Hm, you might have something.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yes, but I have no idea where his day job is located or when he’s free.”

“Something to ask him then.”

“You’re right. I just hope he doesn’t think this as something else.”

“Let’s not worry about that until we get there alright, luv?”

Emmet smirked, “I’ll try.”

Mundee gently nudged him. “Don’t get overly concerned.”

“You’ll put me back on track.”

“Can’t rely on me for everything, darl.”

“I don’t, but I know if I become too in over my head without realizing it, I know you’ll pull me out of it.”

Mundee rolled his eyes and put an arm around his shoulders, “No doubt.”


	4. Step 1

Chapter 4

Mundee adjusted his hat one more time out of nervousness as they walked through the entrance to the bar. They decided to arrive early since Emmet had this weekend off. The Aussie could not calm his nerves. Then again, he was always a bit antsy when it comes to adding a new partner. 

Emmet took his hand from the hem of his hat and kissed it, “It’ll be fine, mein Schatz.”

“Do we talk before or after the gig?”

The doctor thought for a moment, “Do you think before would distract him?”

“Maybe? How long do want to be here?”

“I don’t feel like drinking tonight, but if you wish for one then we can stay and--, well, listen to Oliver’s singing.”

Mundee looked around, “I don’t see him anywhere. Place is a bit crowded too.”

“Mm…” He tugged at his lover’s arm, “We don’t have to stay long, Mundee. I know how you get with crowds.”

“Y-yeah… Ask and leave is fine by me.”

Emmet smiled, “Shall I do the asking?”

“... Please…?”

“Stay by the door, liebling. And if you need to step outside, do so. I’ll be back.”

Emmet glided over to the bar. He caught a glimpse of Angie, coming out the kitchen to help with tending the bar with Rene. She met his gaze and pulled him over.

She put on her practically award winning smile, “Nice to see ya, Emmet. What’s your poison?”

“Always a pleasure. Actually...” He took a side glance over at Rene who looked busy enough not to eavesdrop, “Any chance where your youngest is located? I have something to ask him.”

Her eyebrows raised up. She also took a glance over at her husband, “Ooh, now? Not staying long?”

“I’m afraid not, Mundee has quite a phobia of crowds so we cannot stay too long. I’m only here to ask your son a question.”

“He’s upstairs, getting ready, but I’ll tell him to hurry up. I’ll be right back. And if Rene says anything, tell him I’m fixing my makeup or some shit.”

“Of course,” Emmet briefly watched her vanish up the stairs. He rested his elbow on the counter and looked over at his lover to see him with his hat over his eyes. He could tell he was resisting to go outside by that frown. The doctor shook his head slightly. Disobeying doctor’s orders.

“I’m sorry for the wait, Monsieur Emmet. What can I get you?”

Emmet gazed upon the ragged impatient Frenchman with a fake smile, “Nothing. I’m waiting for someone.”

Rene looked at the doorway and back.

“Someone _else_. We won’t be here long.”

The bartender looked him over, “Would you like a simple orange juice then?”

“If you’re going to make me drink something, then fine.”

He watched Rene disappear into the kitchen before returning with a glass of orange juice.

“Danke.” He let the drink rest in his hands.

Soon enough Angie returned back to the ground floor much to Rene’s surprise, “Angelina?”

“What? My eyelashes were drooping and it was driving me crazy. You’d know how that feels-- Did you seriously get him orange juice?”

“If he wasn’t going to drink anything...”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever,” Angie rolled her eyes and gave him a jab to his side, “Smile, dammit. You’re scaring the customers away.”

“But you are my smile.”

“Go tend to the kitchen then. I got this.” Rene obeyed without a second glance. Angie smiled at the doctor and winked, “He’ll be down soon.”

As if on cue, there was rapid clapping of cleats against wood. Emmet looked to see Oliver in a dressy but flashy costume that resembled a tuxedo. Upon seeing the doctor, he briefly froze and quickly adjusted his shirt and walked towards him in a very desperate nonchalant manner. “You called for me?”

Emmet couldn’t help smiling. “Indeed. Mundee and I have a proposition for you but I will speak on his behalf.”

“Y-yes?”

“I will say it only if you tell me when you’re free.”

He watched the color flush onto his face, “F-free? Ummm… I’m--duh, I’m free on, fuck, when am I free?”

“You’re free all day on Tuesdays and Fridays, sweetie!” Angie called out.

“Thank you! Y-yeah then.”

“Alright. Well… I’m not quite sure what to call it.” Emmet rolled his shoulders, “A date, a hang out, whatever is comfortable for you. But it doesn’t change the fact that we would like to spend time with you outside this bar.”

“I-it’s a date then!”

Emmet giggled, “Lunch? Twelve?”

“Sure!”

”We’ll pick you up. Tuesday then?”

“Yeah! Of course...”

Something about his lovestruck aura made Emmet feel so giddy. He took the boy’s hand and kissed it, “Until then. Gute Nacht, Oliver. I’m sorry I cannot stay to hear your beautiful singing.”

He caused the boy to be speechless as he walked away. Mundee wasn’t at the door anymore, he noticed.

Oliver’s knees felt like water. He barely reacted to his mom picking him up from behind and swinging him, “Oh, Ollie, your first date! I’m so proud of you!” She added in a hushed tone, “And don’t worry, I’ll talk about it with your father. Sneak out if you need to.”

He finally blinked out of his thoughts, “Oh, uh, y-yeah, yeah. Yeah...”

~~~

Oliver heard a yell from downstairs the next morning. Hesitantly, he placed the gel back into the cupboard and advanced towards the stairs, pausing at the first step.

“You’re too protective of him.”

“He’s too naive!”

“He knows how to watch himself. I raised him, I know my own son. Rene, this is his first date. Let him have this.”

Silence.

“Besides, they’re nice men when you actually talk to them, instead of avoiding them like the plague because they think your son is cute.”

Oliver let his weight rest against the wall.

“Look, I get that you want him not to get hurt but you can’t shelter him either.”

“I know...”

“Do you?”

He checked his phone. It was only another ten minutes before they arrived. A date over lunch break. He wondered how busy Emmet got, he took that back, doctors can be pretty busy. Oliver didn’t care how short the date would be, this was a date and he wanted to make a good impression.

He even put fresh socks on.

With a huff, Oliver walked down the spiral staircase.

“Oliver! Oh, you look so nice!”

He steadfastly ignored Rene’s cold gaze, “Thanks. I’m gonna wait outside.”

“Oliver.”

Slowly, he looked over at his pained face, trying to think of something to say. The boy began edging his way towards the door, “Don’t got all day, old man.”

“Just… don’t be stupid.”

He stopped at the door. Rene was always awful with pep talks. “... Thanks.”

~~~

Oliver sat on a bench a block away from the bar, scrolling through his phone. Soon, he heard the sounds of a motorcycle but quickly paid no mind to it. But then it stopped nearby, parking itself on the side of the road. He took a glance at the motorbike. The model was unfamiliar to him but it was sleek and colored in a sharp red. It even had a sidecar.

He finally looked up at the driver and his jaw dropped.

“Mundee??” He noticed the passenger behind him, “Emmet?!”

“We’re here a lil’ early. I hope that’s alright.”

Oliver blinked, “Dude… You have a motorcycle.”

Mundee chuckled, “Christmas present Emmet _shouldn’t_ have gotten me.”

The doctor merely grinned, “Don’t tell me things you want then. Here, Oliver.” 

He picked up a helmet from the sidecar and tossed it over to the boy who caught it with ease.

“Nice catch.” The Aussie gestured with his head at the sidecar. “C’mon.”

Stunned for a moment, Oliver eventually got up and ran over to the sidecar as he put the helmet on.

This was it. It was happening. He was on a date. He was in a sidecar in a motorcycle. He could take one small glance to his right and gawk. They always looked nice, especially Emmet, with his… damn attractive clothes. And Mundee always had some form of slimming black and red on him. Meanwhile Oliver looked like he was ready for prom. He swallowed. They didn’t say anything about it, right? So, it must be fine. He was worrying too much.

~~~

“You alright, Ollie? You’ve been kinda spacy.”

Oliver finally jumped out of the train, and he nervously shifted in his seat, as he stared at his food, “Shit, sorry. I guess, I’m just… Sorry.”

“This is your first date, isn’t it?” Emmet looked at him with a comforting smile. “Don’t worry so much. In fact, you’re doing a lot better than Mundee.”

Mundee gave up on the chopped sticks, “Oi, don’t bring that up.”

“Mundee, please let that go.” He ruffled his hair to which Mundee responded by putting his hat back on, “How long ago has it been? Nearly six years ago?”

The artist grumbled.

Oliver chuckled shyly, “That bad, huh?”

“He didn’t do anything embarrassing. He was just a nervous, antisocial Engel. He said nothing the first twenty minutes of our date and was absurdly apologetic about it.”

Mundee grunted. “Anyway, I’m a lil surprised though. You said that you help bring in the business, I thought that would get more people on you.”

“I mean…” Oliver poked at his food and shrugged, “They like my voice and all but my dad asks if I’m rambunctious for a reason. I don’t agree with him, at all. I’m not hurting anybody. But apparently some people find me more annoying than charming. Even got a complaint that I sing too loud. Some old folks even go so far to criticize Rene and my ma on how they raised me. People are _way_ too fucking nosy not just old people, asking why aren’t I in college, why they let me do the shit I do. Why do you care, I’m a singer that’s all I ever will be to you people. It ain’t a reason to go to my ma’s face to tell her she did a terrible job… Fuck, I’m rambling again.”

“If it’s something needing letting out, it’s okay to vent to us.” Mundee gave him a sympathetic pat on the back, “That’s one of the reasons why I hate people. Too fucking nosy. Cannot begin with the customers I’ve had or rather the preachers I’ve had, just so you know you’re not alone there.”

The boy felt somewhat lighter, “Thanks, man.”

Emmet added, “That and college isn’t for everyone. You found your calling as a singer, yes?”

“Well, yeah, it doesn’t pay much though, because it’s, you know, Rene. The dipshit. ‘S why I’m a waiter at a restaurant my dad owes a favor too.”

“And what restaurant is this?”

“You don’t want to know, and I don’t want to see either of you there. It ain’t worth your time. Food’s disgusting.”

“Seafood, then?” Mundee offered.

“Not giving you hints. Just don’t bother.”

This had Emmet concerned, “I hope they are not… making you do unnecessary things.”

“Like forcibly work there?”

“Other than that.”

“I just bust and wait tables, man. It’s better than being a cook. Cause I can’t cook. But I can bake.”

This caught their attention. “You bake?”

“That was terrifying, that was so close to being in unison.” Oliver shrugged at their eager faces, “Yeah, I bake. Ma taught me how. It ain’t that hard and accordin’ to my ma I’m really good at it, which, I don’t know, never really got? It’s just food, I don’t know how you can make something better when you do it the same way. Not like singing, I get singing.”

Mundee laughed a bit, “I think she just wants you to bake more.”

“I don’t mind it, I can be patient. I memorize it fast. It’s just boring, I guess. Baking don’t entertain people or me.”

“You... really do like to entertain, huh?”

“I mean, yeah, that’s all I’m good for.”

They looked at him. Emmet decided to speak first, “What do you mean?”

“I mean what I mean. That’s what I think, what Rene thinks. I’m invisible when I’m not entertaining, and when I am on that stage, it just feels good.”

“... You’re attention deprived.”

Oliver suddenly straightened up, “What? No, I’m not!”

Mundee snorted mirthlessly, “That sounded guilty.”

The boy shrunk in his seat, “S-so what?”

“Were you spoiled a lot when you were a child, Oliver?”

“Is this a fucking therapy session?”

“Answer or I will assume.”

“Assume away then.”

Emmet looked to Mundee who only shook his head then back, “From what I gather, I assume that you were given quite a bit of attention growing up being the youngest son and needing to learn much in a short amount of time just to catch up. And then when that was taken away from you, you entertain to have that attention come back to you. However, that isn’t the same kind of attention since your audience doesn’t love you the same way your mother or brothers do. Did I _assume_ correctly, Oliver?”

Oliver had his arms crossed. His gaze downcast and half lidded.

“I’ll assume I did. What I can’t though is what I’m about to ask you. Did you say yes just to entertain us?”

“No.”

“Did you become infatuated because we gave you attention?”

Oliver stiffened and raised his head, “No.”

“That was defensive. I am not satisfied with just a no.”

“I think you already know.”

“Tell me as if I don’t. I want to hear you say it.”

Oliver paused, breaking eye contact, “... I can’t.”

Emmet checked his watch, which subconsciously set something in motion within the boy.

“Look, I don’t know how to explain it, alright? But it’s not just fucking infatuation, alright? If it was, I wouldn’t… I wouldn’t really be talking to you guys like this. I like you guys. I wanna get to know you. And I just get excited because this doesn’t happen to me. No one… likes me enough to ask for this or to continue to talk to me like this or even… care! It’s… I don’t know. I feel fucking awful because I’m making our date into this pity party because I have a big mouth that doesn’t know when to shut up. I’m making this all about me.”

Oliver looked up to see a smile on the doctor’s face, “What?”

“May I remind you that you have always been the one asking us questions. Listening intently. It’s not that you rarely talk about yourself but you seem to be putting up a front instead. Now we see you.”

The boy swallowed, “As a dumb kid who can’t do anything right?”

“Who’s going to get a second date, yeah.” Mundee added with a smirk.

Silence washed over like a tidal wave. The boy looked on in awe, “... What?”

“We just wanted to know more about you, Oliver.” Emmet got up from his chair with trash on his tray, “You don’t need to pretend, because I can see through it.”

“Yeah, he’s too good at that.”

“Yeah, I noticed.”

Emmet checked his watch again, “Unfortunately, however, my time is up and I need to go. Mundee? Do you want a to go box?”

“Oh! Sure. Let’s drop you off first, that okay with you, Ollie?”

“Uh, yeah, sure.”

~~~

The motorbike slowed to a halt near the curb nearby the bar. When Oliver quickly took off his helmet and took a foot out of the cart, Mundee grabbed his arm, “You alright, Ollie?”

“I’m damn fi--... Did you just call me Ollie?”

“Been callin’ you Ollie.”

His face felt red, “Oh… you gonna let go?”

“Until you tell the truth.”

“... Fine. It’s not what I expected my first date to go.”

“What were you expecting?”

“... Fuck, if I know. Not an interview?”

Mundee wagered a smile and released his arm, “That’s Emmet for you. If it makes you feel better, we’ve done that before with past partners.”

“Oh.”

“Weeds them out to quote Em.”

“... Oh.”

“We also wanted you to be honest with us.”

“I got that much.”

“Ollie, I do want to ask you one more thing though.”

“Yeah?”

“Did we lose you?”

He blinked, “Lose me?”

“Y-you know… lost interest…?”

“No! God, no! I just… fuck, I’m sorry. I-I thought--”

“No, no, don’t be. I’m glad you...” He cleared his throat, “So, another date is fine with you?”

Oliver nodded vigorously, unable to trust his mouth.

Mundee’s hopeful smile pierced through his skin. “Nice. Alright. We’ll… work out the details later?”

“Y-yeah, yeah. Yeah.” He tried to puff out his chest, as he tried to sound more confident.

“Alright. We’ll see you this weekend?”

“Yeah! Yeah.”

“You sound like a broken record, kid.”

Oliver nervously laughed before quickly jumping over to the shoulder to get out of the Aussie’s way. “Y-you, you drive safe.”

“I will.” He put on his helmet, “Take care.”

“Ye-- yoouu too.”

Oliver watched him drive off until he couldn’t see the red paint glistening the sun. It finally occurred to him that he should head inside. He walked through the open door and narrowly made it past the kitchen door before he heard a familiar unfriendly french accent. “Oliver!”

He stopped at the foot of the stairs and slowly turned towards Rene, his back against the railing and arms crossed.

“Well?” Rene started.

“Well what?”

He rolled his eyes, “How did it go?”

“Like an interview.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, and like an interview, it ain’t your business. So fuck off, I’m gonna take a shower to get this gel shit out.”

Rene waited until he heard a door slam shut before whining, “Angeline.”

“Let him be.” She called back from the kitchen, “And no I’m not talking to him for you.”

He pouted and growled to him as he began buffing the tables.

“Don’t be my ninth child, Rene.”

Wisely, he didn’t respond to that.


	5. Step 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so sorry for the long wait, boy howdy is college a bitch

“Becoming a slut, are ya, Ollie?”

Oliver was just brushing his teeth. He sneered at his third youngest brother, Riley, who waited for an answer with a patient smile.

“Get it into your dumb brain. Ma explain’d it to ya before, it’s polyamour. Bein’ a slut’s pretty different.”

“You keep telling yourself that, man.”

Oliver fought the urge to spit his toothpaste at him, before he leaned over the sink, “You mad that you can’t have girls all over your dick cause of how ugly you are?”

Riley’s smile vanished, “I ain’t ugly.”

“You keep telling yourself that, man.” Oliver flicked his nose as he walked out the bathroom.

Oliver had prepared himself for questions and situations that his dumb brothers will put him in. They weren’t as accepting as their mom was. They were worse than Rene, with their disrespectful name calling. Oliver hated to admit it, but he was glad that Rene had some decency to just glare at him.

Oliver’s new relationship didn’t add too much he was already going through. The love hate relationship with his brothers, Rene hating his guts, Angie being supportive, if anything Oliver didn’t exactly care about the newness of being in a polygamous relationship. It was a normal relationship. That’s all it is.

Just… a normal relationship.

Ok, maybe it did eat at him a bit, but this was something he prepared himself for. There were going to be people in his life that won’t accept it. Just move along, he reminded himself.

He didn’t even notice the man in front of him as he was cleaning the bar.

“We ain’t open ye--” His jaw snapped shut at the sight of Mundee, “Oh. Uh--nice shirt.”

Smooth.

His amused grin already made his face grow warm, “Thanks. You singing tonight?”

“No?”

“Wanna get out of here then?”

“I mean, uh, that depends on my ma,” Oliver blinked a few times before looking around for Emmet.

“He’s at work. Won’t be home for a while.”

“Oh.”

“And I already asked your mum.”

“You did?”

“You were pretty preoccupied in your thoughts there.”

“Ah, fuck, you were talking to me earlier?”

“Just a bit before your mum called me over.”

“Shit.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m sure you have a lot on your mind, I think it’s good to take a small break from it, you know?” Nervously, he scratched at his neck, “So, would you… want to?”

Oliver quickly tried to downplay his eagerness, “Yea, sure, why not--I mean, okay let’s go.”

The boy slipped out of the bar and as nonchalantly as he could walked with Mundee.

“Don’t stay out too late, you too!” Angie called after them before the door shut.

“Mun, thanks for, uh, getting me outta there. That was… nice.” He mentally kicked himself for the awkward compliment.

“Well, I had plans anyway for you, but I’m glad I could help you out.” Mundee patted his shoulder, “things not so great?”

“We don’t have to focus on that--”

“You’re right, we don’t have to. But it’s still something I want answered.”

His heart pounded in his ears. “Rrrright, I mean. Things haven’t always been… great, you know? Even when this happened, things are still the same, just a new addition to the teasing and the glaring. I’m fine. Just getting used to being called a slut--”

“A slut?!”

“... Shouldn’t have said that outloud.”

“No, Ollie, who called you that?”

“My brothers--Hey!” Oliver quickly stepped in front of the Aussie before he marched back into the bar, “Don’t! Don’t. Seriously. They won’t listen. They’re a bunch of idiots, let them call me what they want.”

Mundee’s expression was something Oliver wasn’t familiar with seeing directed towards him. Pity? Remorse? His eyebrows were knitted and he looked like he wanted to say something, but his mouth was held shut. 

“I’ll be fine. Really. This ain’t nothing. I’ve been called more than a slut.”

“Stop. Saying that…” The boy winced slightly. Mundee took in a breath, “You’re not a slut.”

“I know I’m not. I’m just… Ollie. Just Ollie. Your… Ollie if you wann-- actually that might be too far, is that too forward?”

That seemed to lighten the mood. The Aussie chuckled slightly, “Maybe a bit, but I know what I’ll be calling you in the future now.”

“H-how far in the future?”

“You’ll know. C’mere,” Mundee put his arm around his shoulders and gently pushed him along to walk.

Oliver immediately got used to the closeness, possibly subconsciously leaning into the artist. They didn’t go to his motorcycle like he thought; they just walked.

He dared to ask, “So, what are these plans you have for me?”

“You like smoothies?”

“Yeah?”

“Taking you to one.”

“Smoothie shop this close--? Oh, that uh, fucking--uhhh, like outdoorsy one? It like opened up a week or two ago right?”

“Yeah, that one. You been there?”

“No, just passed by it, don’t got the time to stop by.”

“Well, now you do.”

Oliver blushed, “Guess you’re right… Thanks.”

“No need, just tell me what you want and I’ll get it for ya.”

“I--Shit, I don’t have my wallet. Wait here--”

Mundee pulled him closer into his side, “I’m paying for it. C’mon, what would you like? Strawberries to match your red face?”

“Fuck off.”

The Aussie giggled lightly, squeezing his shoulder.

“Pineapple, peach, and mangoes. Soy milk.”

“Soy?” 

“Shut up. I’m trying to keep this figure.”

“Just teasing, don’t care what milk you get. Alright. Wait here.”

“I can’t order it myself?”

“Shut up, I’m treating you.”

“Alright. They have cookies here, get me one.”

“Fine, fine. Chocolate chip?”

“Yes, please!”

~~~  
“You want some?” Oliver waved the cookie in front of Mundee’s face.

He giggled, “It’s all yours.”

“You waaaaant soooome.”

With a roll of his eyes, Mundee took a bite and said with a full mouth, “thanks.”

“Mmmhm,” he motioned the smoothie towards him.

“Nah.”

“MMmmmm?”

“You keep your gross fruit guts.”

“Don’t diss the smoothie, man.”

“Didn’t know it had feelings.”

“Shut up.” As they walked along, Oliver felt a strange peace he had never felt in his life. He could not describe it and he certainly was not going to tell Mundee about it, he was going to laugh. Yet he felt like he had to say something after such a long, long comfortable silence of just walking, “Mun… thanks. You’re sweet.”

Oliver felt lips press against his cheek, and he nearly dropped his nearly empty smoothie.

“Too forward…?”

“D-dude, my lips are right here.”

He snorted, “Seeing how let your drink slip for a sec, I don’t think I should.”

“I’ve got a good grip on it now.”

“Mhm.”

“Aw, c’mon. Please?”

Mundee wanted to. He honestly did want to, but he felt unsure. He didn’t like showing too much affection in public. That was for something at home, even Emmet understood that.

He then felt a pair of lips on his cheek.

Mundee wasn’t expecting to see a smile on the singer’s face. He opened his mouth to explain himself.

“Ah-ah-ah, we’ll kiss when you’re up for it, man.”

Flustered, the Aussie scratched at his neck. He squeezed Oliver’s side, “Thanks, Ollie.”

“It’s no problem--hold on my phone is buzzing,” Oliver brought his phone out from his pants pocket, “Ah, shit, it’s Rene. I need to head back-- How far away are we?”

“Ten minutes at most.”

“Kay...” his fingers were set to typing and before he could put his phone back, it buzzed again. Groaning, he glanced at it again and his frown deepened.

“What’d he say?”

“‘We need to talk’, basically. Probably about you and Em.”

Mundee growled, “Rene’s a dick.”

“Right? Here, you don’t got to tag along. I can run back.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it. Just,” Oliver couldn’t help himself, he embraced the artist tightly, “thank you, I had a good time with you.”

Mundee returned the embrace just as tightly, “It was the least I could do, really.”

Oliver gave one last squeeze and he slowly pulled away from him, walking backwards, “I’ll see you around.”

“You take care, Ollie.”

“You too.”

 _I love you_ was on the tip of both of their tongues but neither said it out loud.

~~~

“The fuck do you want to ‘discuss’, Rene?” Oliver shouted when he busted into the bar. He chucked his empty smoothie and napkin into the neighboring trashcan.

Rene didn’t stop cleaning the bar to look at him, “Sit.”

Oliver sloppily did as he was told, elbows on the counter and all.

“And you know, by discuss, you mean, I’m going to sit here and listen to you yammer on about how much of a fucking idiot I am. Let me get my phone, go on. Talk.”

Rene glared as he let the rag drop from his hand, “Oliver, when I was your age--”

“Oh my g-- are you seriously starting your sentence with that?”

“Sweetie, give Rene a chance,” Angie, who was busting the tables, cut in from behind.

“Jesus, fine. Whatever.”

It took all of the Frenchman to not smack the boy upside the head. “.... When I was your age, I too was… all over the place. I made many mistakes--”

Oliver clicked his tongue. He could say something. He could say something incredibly awful, but he held himself together as best as he could for his mom. “Uh-huh.”

“The point I want to make is that, I am going to try to accept this.”

His eyebrows shot up, “Yeah? Try, huh? Not _do_ it?”

Rene exhaled with pursed lips, “Let me word this in a different way: I am giving them a chance, and I’m giving you a chance. If either of you mess up, I will know.”

“Ooh, yeah, I can feel the pressure. Look, I totally got chills here.” Oliver smirked, leaning forward, “You actually gonna be nice to my _boyfriends_ then?”

He emphasized it just to watch Rene squirm.

“Yes. I am.” He said with gritted teeth.

“Good. I hope that the next time they come here, their drinks are on the house.”

“I assure you, they will be.”

“Good. I’m glad we had this talk. Later, douchebag.” Oliver forcibly removed himself off the seat and swiftly jogged up the stairs.

Angie advanced towards the counter once he left, “That’s an improvement. He didn’t call you a fucktard that time.”

Rene snatched the rag from the counter and threw it in the sink. “I am so blessed.”

“Didn’t that go better than you expected though? He didn’t go off on you.”

“He took hold on the conversation towards his favor and not mine.”

“What difference does that make? You two wanted the same thing. He’s off your back and you’re off his, right?”

“Yes, ma chérie.”

“I hope next time I see you two talking, you two are laughin’ and huggin’.”

Angie laughed at his disgusted expression. “... You must be joking.”

“A mother can dream.”

~~~

Oliver’s room had become a mess and he was now going through his closet for something to wear for his gig and continued to have no luck. Most of his clothes were in the wash and the rest were not flashy enough.

He shared at the room with his brother, Cody, who stepped into the room, “Jesus Christ! Dude, what is this?”

“Look, I’ll clean it up later, alright? I’m trying to find something to wear tonight.”

“Good luck trying to find a sense of style then. I hope this is cleaned up when I get back, squirt.”

Oliver straightened up, pouting. “... My style ain’t that bad… It’s charming...”

He looked around the clothes ridden room and stood up. He didn’t have the time or patience to go through and clean the place back up. He shrugged, grabbing his wallet and jogging out of the bar.

~~~

Oliver took another picture and sent it in the group chat of Emmet, Mundee and himself. He looked at himself in the mirror again. Angie was out getting groceries, his brothers were useless, Rene was out of the question, so his boyfriends would have to do, even though they were physically there with him.

His phone dinged and he looked down to read, ‘Stop stealing clothes from the 90s.‘

“Oh, fuck off...” He ripped the suit off him and hung it back onto it’s appropriate hanger. He was thirty minutes in and already frustrated.

As he tried getting his pants back on, he spoke into his phone, “I’m gonna try JCPenney or something-- What the fuck, why did it auto correct to Jesus Christ, Penney. Who’s been touching my ph-- Oh, what the fuck whatever. I’m not in the mood.”

He gathered the hanging suits as he left the stall to hang them on a rack for the employees to take.

Oliver was hung up on his own frustration of sulking throughout the mall to his next stop that he didn’t notice a familiar figure approaching him until he felt his shoulder touched.

“Emmet?! What are you doing here?? You stalking me?” 

Emmet rolled his eyes, “No, I was having lunch here with my colleagues since a few of us have the rest of the day off and then I saw you.”

“Of all places you guys go to the mall, huh?”

“Our work is five minutes away from here, so yes.”

“Oh.”

“And I hear you’re having wardrobe troubles.”

Oliver huffed, “I mean, yea, it’s stupid. I need better shit for my gig, you know? Can’t wear the same thing too many times. I like to surprise my audience.”

“I can tell.”

The singer smirked, “You wanna help?”

“Why not?”

“Should I get Mundee up here too?”

“Oh heavens, no, he has terrible taste in fashion. And he’s still working.”

Oliver snorted, “And he called me out for wearing clothes from the nineties.”

“You’ve seen how he dresses right?” Emmet said with a grin.

“Yea, but I was too mad to think of a comeback, but anyways, c’mon. You probably have a lot better taste than I do.”

“You think so?”

“I mean, you’re always dressed really nice and clean and nice, really nice.”

Oliver watched the blush creep up the doctor’s cheeks.

~~~

“Turn.”

Oliver spun around slowly again until Emmet stopped him.

“It’s too tight in the back but the shirt is snug… Try this,” he laid a pair of pants onto his outstretched arm.

“That kind of tight can be a good thing though,” Oliver said with a wink.

The doctor smirked back, “Not when it rips your pants as you move.”

Oliver scoffed and trudged back into the stall.

This was their fifth try and Emmet was already more patient than him. Oliver wasn’t even thinking about how the fabric felt on him. He didn’t necessarily mind how Emmet made him turn. He didn’t mind his eyes looking that closely at all. Even if it was for another reason.

He came out and spun for him without prompt.

Emmet patted on his shoulders, adjusted his sleeves, fixed his collar… “That is a lot better and very fitting for you.”

“You think so? It’s not that flashy though…” He couldn’t help himself, “And what was with the small adjustments, are you that much of a perfectionist or did you really want to touch me?”

Emmet’s mouth twitched. “You don’t have to be flashy to gain attention. Besides, I’m sure you can glue on some glitter.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

The doctor handed him a rack, “Put those on this rack, so we can continue, you need more clothes, yes?”

“Well yea but-- don’t think I don’t see what you’re doing, Em.”

His eyes narrowed, “Later, Oliver.”

“Fine.” He snatched the hanger but before he closed the stall door he smiled, “Should I save this for a special occasion then?”

Emmet shrugged, “It does suit you well.”

“That’s a pun, isn’t it?”

“Might be. Go change.”

~~~

“My feeet huuurt…”

“Would ice cream afterward make you feel better, Oliver?”

“Fuck yeah!”

That kept him quiet for two more changes.

“We’re done.”

“We are?”

“You said five outfits, yes? Including the one you’re wearing right now, we’re done.”

“Oh! Awesome. We get ice cream now?”

“After you pay for these, yes.”

“Oh, right, pay. Uh, how much?”

“Nearing two hundred.”

Oliver fell silent, crestfallen. Shit.

Emmet looked at him and shook his head, “I’ll pay for them.”

“Ho--nooo, you don’t! I was just thinking! That’s all I was doing. These are mine, alright? You’re not paying. Not even half!”

“Are you sure--?”

“Yes! I’m sure! Just-- don’t worry about it.”

“You’re using a credit card, aren’t you?”

“Wh-what makes ya think that?”

“I’m just asking.”

“... Yea? I mean-- I just help pay rent is all. I can get this all paid up within a month or two.” Or three, he added to himself.

“Are you certain?”

“Jeez, you’re worried about me, aren’t you? Look, I ain’t in debt or anything, I just… trying to figure shit out. Be an adult and all that. Just don’t… worry, okay?”

Emmet merely nodded.

“Thanks...”

~~~

Oliver swung his bags full of clothes absentmindedly as they waited in line at the ice cream parlor. Emmet frowned. The boy looked so distant. The doctor nudged him, “I’ll pay for the ice cream.”

“What? No-- Emmet.”

“It was my idea, Oliver. What flavor do you want?”

The singer shifted his feet. “.... Rocky road?”

“Alright.”

Emmet gave him a sympathetic smile, “It’ll be alright. I’m sure Angie will understand.”

“I know they both will but it’s just about me keeping up my end.”

“And I know you will.”

“... Thanks, Em.”

“Why don’t you go sit down?”

“You think these bags are too heavy for me?”

Emmet snickered, “You do seem to be having a bit of trouble with them, and you are fidgeting a little.”

Oliver huffed, blushing from embarrassment, “Fine.”

He walked to a nearby table, dropping his bags and immediately his leg set to bouncing. He surveyed the food court. There was a lot of parents with their toddlers, some carrying toys and bags.

Teenagers milling about and talking loudly. Oliver missed those days. He still had friends to hang out with but most of them were in college… and he wasn’t.

It was until his eyes landed upon Tavish did Oliver feel lighter. He raised his hand to wave him down but he instantly stopped at the sight of Rene.

Rene. Of all people.

In the mall.

With Tavish?

Oliver watched his step-father be pulled along by the fireman, who was lively chatting to him about something Oliver couldn’t catch.

He lowered his hand and sighed.

“Oliver?”

“Huh? Oh, thanks Emmet.” He took the cup of ice cream from him.

Emmet sat across from him and quickly thought of a nice conversation starter, “So, you and Mundee went out recently, mm?”

“Uh? Oh, yeah. He was really sweet.”

“You enjoyed yourself then?”

“Yeah.” Oliver let out a small laugh, “He called my smoothie gross fruit guts.”

Emmet nearly choked on his ice cream, “Did he, now? He’s the one that’s eaten every animal on the planet.”

“...What?”

“That man can eat anything. Whether it is good for his stomach or not… Oliver, I have seen him eat a live lizard on our few camping trips.”

“That is… kind of awesome, but I am so sorry.”

“It was somehow fascinating, I’m not going to lie. I still have no idea how to feel about it. I feel like I should take a look at his stomach....”

Oliver giggled, “... You guys have gone camping though?”

“Oh, yes, Mundee loved to camp when he was with his foster parents, and he brought that joy to me. I didn’t mind it that much. And the night sky was romantic. But I could do without the bugs, ach.”

“Heheh, yeah. I’ve been camping too. Only when I was little though. My brothers and I played with a hornet’s nest and you know how that goes.”

“I’m surprised you lived to tell the tale.”

“Yeah, it was intense. My mom didn’t let us camp for years until we were twelve. We were still idiots though, so we made some fire ants angry by trying to drown their hill.”

“Mein Gott, Oliver, you’re awful!”

“We were twelve! And we’re still idiots.”

“You are not an idiot, Oliver.”

“You sure about that?”

“Plenty sure.” Emmet sweetly smiled at him that made his heart skip a beat.

Oliver shot up from his seat and leaned over, quickly kissing the side of his lip and sat back down, scooping up a spoonful of ice cream and stuffing it into his mouth.

Emmet blinked a few times, “What was that for…?”

“You guys are too nice to me...”

“And what’s wrong with that?”

“It’s too much. You’re gonna give me cavities.”

Emmet laughed. “If anything, Oliver, you’re too sweet… You have chocolate all over your face, by the way.”

Oliver swallowed and frantically rubbed a napkin over his mouth, “Better…?”

“Ja.”

~~~

Oliver quickly wrapped his arms around Emmet before leaving the mall. He held the doctor close to him, as if he was going overseas.

Emmet reciprocated and petted the boy’s hair, “Are you going to be okay?”

“Yeah, Em, I’ll be fine. I just… want to hug you is all… and you’re all nice and warm.”

The doctor gave him a peck on the cheek. “There’s you being a sweetheart again.”

Oliver wanted to say it. It was such an opportune time to say it, but it was too early, wasn’t it? So Oliver just held him until he forced himself to let go.

“Be safe, schatz.”

The singer looked at him, disturbed, “Shat-z?”

“It means sweetheart.”

“O-oh… You trying to make me hug you again?”

Emmet smiled, “No, I’m not. If I were, you’d already by in my arms.”

Oliver wanted to hide his red face. “... Can we do this again…?”

“I don’t see why not.”

Oliver forced a small smile, “Thanks, I’ll-- see you later.”

“Auf wiedersehen, Schatz.”


	6. Frankly, Darling, I don't give a damn

Rene let himself be pulled through the mall as Tavish regaled him in seemingly endless stories that he wasn’t listening to.

Rene had been dissociating for seven minutes. The crowd around them felt as if he was walking beside ghosts. He could barely feel anything. Not even Tavish’s grip on his hand. All he could feel was air whooshing past him.

He didn’t know they had stopped walking nor did he acknowledge Tavish’s heavily concerned face.

Eventually when he gained awareness, he was sitting down and half melted rocky road ice cream in front of him.

Rene said nothing as looked from the ice cream to Tavish and back.

“... This isn’t helping you...” Tavish heaved, setting his cup down.

“My apologies.”

“You’re fine, laddy. I just want to help.”

Tavish watched Rene mindlessly stirred his more or less soup ice cream.

“Have you really not consulted with a therapist? Why aren’t you on medication?”

“Because I don’t want either of those.”

“It would help you, Rene.”

“No. It wouldn’t. Because I’ve tried them both before.”

“... Oh. Really? The medication didn’t--?”

“That medication makes you more motivated. You can guess what was supposed to happen.”

Tavish’s eyes grew wide, “Rene, no.”

“My heart is still pulsing much to my dismay, Tavish, please, don’t make a scene.”

Gears churned in his head, “Maybe you need to travel.”

“I did...”

“Then--”

“Tavish.” Rene stopped himself. He said that too harshly. He took in a slow breath, “Tavish… Your help is appreciated but unwanted. I am healing. It’s painfully slow, but it’s getting better.”

“Is it?”

“Of course, you wouldn’t notice the difference.”

“Are you sure you aren’t saying that to get me off your back?”

Rene exhaled and motioned to his hands, “Why do you think I wear these gloves and long sleeves, Tavish?”

“Rene...”

“I’ve stopped. The urge is still there, however, I’m--drawing, instead of...”

Tavish slowly smiled and patted the bartender’s hand, “I call that progress then.”

“Merci.”

Tavish took both of their cups and threw them away, since he knew the Frenchman wasn’t going to actually eat it, and gently guided him back to the outdoors with locked elbows.

“However...”

Tavish blinked and gazed over at his friend.

“... Does my condition cause me to be too… aggressive, Tavish?”

“With Oliver, I’ve noticed.”

“Yes… Angeline has said that.”

“Oh, oh I hope she’s not angry with you.”

“No, no, no, she… somehow, understands my mental state and can still love me like she always has. But Oliver...”

“Well, what you have doesn’t make up for your actions, you know. Just explains some things about you. I think Oliver can understand that if you apologize.”

“Even if I do, he won’t believe it.”

“That you’re depressed or your apology?”

“My apology. He already hates me, I fear that will only make it worse, because I’m not completely honest with him.”

“Trust is a slow process, especially with Ollie. I’m sure one day, he’ll get to know the real you, like I have. I know it took me some time to coax it out of you.”

Rene gave a dry laugh.

“I love ya, Rene. You’ll get by, I know you can.”

After a short eerie silence, Tavish looked over at him to make sure he wasn’t dissociating again, but Rene finally spoke, “... Thank you. I love you too, Tavish.”

~~~

Angie smiled when her husband walked through the door and she rounded the bar to embrace him, “Hey, hun, how was the mall with Tav?”

“An experience.”

“A good one?”

“Somewhat.”

Angie gave him a squeeze and kissed the corner of his mouth. “You missed Ollie, he came from the mall in about a minute or two before you. You should talk to him.”

“About what?”

“Small talk?”

“You know I cannot do small talk.”

“It wouldn’t hurt to try.”

“Ah, yes, so he can say ‘you’re wasting my time, old man. Go fuck yourself!’.”  
“Nice attempt at a boston accent, hun.”

Rene rolled his eyes, “Ma cheri, please.”

“You got until six, just letting you know. He does have a show tonight.”

“Yes, I schedule them.”

Angie gave him a small smile, “I just want my babies to get along, like you’ve done with all my other kids.”

“I know, but he has more of me in him than you.”

“You can’t get along with yourself is that what you’re saying?”

“... Yes.”

She patted his arm, “You’ll get by.”

Rene sighed as he watched her leave.

~~~

He heard heavy footsteps tromping down the stairs, Rene glanced up from the bar to see Oliver with a spray bottle and rag for the tables.

“Oliver.” He said mostly as a greeting.

The boy grunted as a reply.

Rene quickly bit his tongue before he pissed him off more by saying how informal that greeting was. “How’s work?”

“Fucking dandy. How was your date with Tavish?”

Oliver was there? He saw? “It wasn’t a date. He wanted me out of the house.”

“Yea, you’re like a toddler, someone has to go with you wherever you go or you’re going to fuck something up.”

Rene had to genuinely bite his tongue that time from saying something snarky back. So silence fell between the two for a solid minute.

“... Sorry.”

The bartender looked up, astonished. “What?”

“What I said was too far. So… yeah. You heard me. I’m sorry.”

Before Rene could open his mouth, the door creaked to life. He looked over to tell the customer that the bar wasn’t in business yet that quickly melted away at the sight of a large green suited man with white hair all over his face and head and a booming voice that filled the room. 

“Leroy! Marvelous, I caught you where you weren’t busy.”

“Darling.” Rene spat, not in the mood to pretend he was happy to see the bastard.

“I’m only here for a hot second--”

“To remind me of my debt to you?”

“That, yes. How is that coming along now?”

“Just fine.”

“Good for you to hear your side of the story, now, I’m afraid that I must tell you something. You were off, yesterday’s pay.”

Rene’s eyes grew huge as his brow knitted, “No, I wasn’t.”

“Yes, you were, by a hundred.”

Behind them, a chair fell to the floor creating a loud bang. The two looked back to see Oliver shakily setting the stool back up.

“Ollie-boy!” Darling cheered, “I didn’t see you there. Come over here, we’re just having an adult chat.”

Oliver had suddenly become very quiet and very rigid. Rene straightened up as he observed the boy.

“I said, get over here.”

Oliver flinched and slowly put the cleaning tools down and advanced towards the bar.

Darling grabbed him by the arm and pulled him into a side embrace, patting the singer’s shoulder. “Now, I would just like to ask where that hundred dollars went, Leroy.”

Rene didn’t hear him. His eyes were solely planted on Oliver, who was shaking and squirming, trying to get out of Darling’s grasp.

“Leroy. This is Darling to Major Leroy, can you come back to us please?”

Rene shot back at the entrepreneur, his voice filled with venom. “Don’t touch my son.”

In surprise, Darling eased himself off of Oliver to which the boy quickly put three feet of distance away from him.

“Have you been abusing him?”

Darling scoffed, “It’s not my fault that the boy is intimidated by me! I cannot help being a bigger broader man than he is.”

“Have you. Been abusing. My son?”

His patience was quickly warying thin, “I’ve had a few choice words with him but only because he had been /slacking/.”

Oliver winced again, keeping his eyes on the floor.

“I know abuse when I see it, Charles.”

“He’s a shit employee, and I can’t fire him because you gave him to me. Darling doesn’t just give back gifts. So what am I to do about it other than to make him work?”

“Oliver.” Rene began softly and waited for him to gaze back up at him. “Come over here for a moment, please.”

He obeyed and hesitantly took a hold of Rene’s hands when they were presented.

“Keep your eyes only on me, Oliver. Have you been doing everything Darling tells you to do?”

He nodded.

“Do you do it as best as you can?”

He nodded more vigorously.

Darling exhaled loudly, “So he says. If it was his best, I wouldn’t have to teach him.”

“Charles, I don’t think I told you I was finished.” He squeezed Oliver’s hands reassuringly, “Does he do this to just you?”

He shook his head.

“Now, Charles, if you wanted workers that do things that you consider are best, why not clone yourself? You surely have the money for it. How about robots?”

“I wouldn’t be so smart. I’m not the one lacking in a hundred dollars.”

Oliver was gripping his hand so hard it was becoming numb, but he didn’t say a thing about it. “If I gave you more, would you treat your employees with respect?”

“You’re not my admin, I don’t take orders from you. Even if you did give me more, you would have nothing more to gain and if you don’t comply, you can kiss your bar goodbye. Are you going to give me that hundred, Rene?”

Darling was unfortunately right. He didn’t have a bargain so good enough for Darling to hesitate. He already gave him his last son. He had nothing more to offer.

“Oliver, be a dear and go to the safe for me.”

Without a word, the boy hurried into the kitchen.

“I will say, that was quite the show you put on, Leroy. I didn’t know you loved that bastard child so much, I’m surprised you even gave him to me. You must have had an amazing change of heart since I last saw you.”

Fury boiled in his blood. It took all of his strength not to smack a wine bottle against Darling’s head.

“Are you angry now? For real?” Darling put his hands up, “Alright, I admit that we were both becoming childish, you a little more than me. But what isn’t childish is what I’m about to say. You are a shitty father.”

“H-hey.” Oliver had been standing there at the edge of the bar for a while, watching with big eyes and holding onto a wad of cash. “He’s doing his best to get bet--er...” 

His eyes quickly downcast to avoid looking at Darling’s red face.

Rene glared at him, “Now, look who’s being childish.”  
The Frenchman carefully stepped towards the singer to gently grab his hand and take the burden off of his other hand. “Merci, mon fils.”

Oliver took a firm hold to his free hand than Rene reminded himself not to stray from.

The bartender handed over the bills to Darling, who snatched and stuffed them into his vest coat. “Thank you for finally cooperating with me. And Ollie-boy, I’ve changed your schedule. You’re coming in tomorrow morning at five to help open up this week. Au revoir, now.”

The door creaked as the entrepreneur left the building. Everything in the bar stood as if it was frozen in time until a loud engine could be heard and a race car whizzed off down the street. Rene’s legs gave out. Instinctively, his elbows placed on the counter to help him stay up. His mind whirred and buzzed. He hated that fucking man, he hated him. Hated him so--

He jumped at the touch of cold water to his head and through his gloves. A wet rag had been placed on his head and Oliver was nudging a glass of water with a straw against his hand.

Rene quietly thanked him and downed the liquid.

“... Are you alright, Oliver?”

“I’m just glad the bastard’s gone… You were brave though.”

“... I hate him.”

“Amen.” Oliver quickly added, “I thought you both agreed that he wouldn’t come down here because he hated how you used the bar.”

“During working hours.”

“Oh… But seriously, why the fuck did he come in here now?”

“I don’t know. He’s a busy man. I’m sure he has other people to con more rent out of.”

“Why did you give it to him?”

“If I don’t give the man what he wants, he’ll have me killed or do something worse.”

Rene hated the uncomfortable silence that squeezed between the two. It looked like Oliver had something to say, but he didn’t prod.

Eventually, after Rene finished his drink, Oliver spoke, “Da-- Rene, y-you don’t… have to pay me. This month. And any tips I get, I’ll give them to you.”  
“Oliver, that’s--”

“Just do it, alright?”

“... Alright.”

“Thank you.”

Rene stopped himself before putting a hand on his shoulder and had it fall back to his side. Oliver surprised him by grabbing and squeezing his hand tightly. “Thank you, Rene. For all that.”

“... And thank you for giving me a chance.”

He was half expecting for the boy to laugh and admit that he is a shitty father but Oliver surprised him with a tired smile and squeezed his hand once more.


	7. The Show Must Go On

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: this chapter does show physical abuse

Emmet took another swing from his beer as he watched their boyfriend strut around the small stage to the beat as he sung above the drums. As enticing as Oliver’s dancing was, his mind was preoccupied with other thoughts. He gently brushed his shoulder against Mundee’s, “I’ve been thinking...”

The artist immediately drew his eyes away from the stage, “Yea?”

“How long would you say we’ve been dating him?”

“Mmm... three months? Almost four?”

“That sounds about right...”

“What are you thinking, darl?” Mundee prodded after a moment of silence..

“Do you think it too soon to invite him over?”

He shrugged, “I don’t see anything too soon about it. I’m sure Rene will interject though.”

The two glanced over at the empty bar only occupying the bartender, Rene. He was watching the stage with an unreadable expression. Emmet lowered his voice. “That’s what I’m worried about.”

“Oh, I see… What would we do if he comes over?”

“Just a movie, Mundee, nothing too explicit.”

“The movie or what happens when he comes over?” Mundee returned with a sultry smirk.

The doctor elbowed him in the ribs. “You’re shitfaced.”

“Nah. You know what would happen if I was.”

“Yes. Thankfully, you haven’t pinned me to the floor yet, dry humping my leg and slobbering me like a mut.”

Mundee withdrew into his hat.

“You growl too.”

“Oh my god, please stop, we’re in public.”

Emmet couldn’t help laughing. Consequently, Oliver looked over and felt blood rush to his head and his heart pounding his ears that it sounded like a drum itself. Mundee looking embarrassed and Emmet embracing and clapping him on the back. He could physically hear that beautiful laughter rumble through his body as his imagination went soaring how he could hear that laugh again. 

All this happened in the matter of a second. He forced himself to continue singing. How fortuitous that he was singing Florence’s Drumming Song as he ignored his raging heartbeat and the thoughts of kissing where the laughter was erupting from.

~~~

“Oliver!” Emmet motioned him over when he stepped off stage.

Now that the lights weren’t on him, it was easier to hide his flushed face. It didn’t stop him from feeling all fuzzy inside. As nonchalantly as he could, he waltzed over, leaning the the table slightly, “What’s up?”

“We would like to change our date up a bit tomorrow is it possible for you.” He answered Oliver’s curious face, “to come over for a movie instead of going out?”

“Come over? To your apartment?” Oliver didn’t stop to consider, “Sure, yeah. Wh-why the change?”

“Why not?”

There was nothing subliminal behind his words that the singer couldn’t transcribe. This gave Oliver relief. Just a movie.

“Ah, what… movie or is it a surprise?”

Mundee intervened, “It’s up to you.”

“Me? But--”

“Name a genre.”

“Oh, uh, thriller. Or action. Somewhere in there.”

Mundee and Emmet exchanged glances, the Aussie smiled, “You owe me.”

The doctor huffed, pulling out his wallet.

Oliver pouted, “What, y-- you were taking bets?? What did you guess, Em?”

“Musical.” Emmet handed over the five dollar bill but Mundee turned it down.

“Nah, love, I meant from here.” His thumb caressed Emmet’s lips that now formed into a frown.

“Now?” He asked with a huff even though he knew the answer.

“Now.”

Knowing that delaying it won’t get him anywhere, Emmet pulled Mundee into a kiss that was quickly dominated by the Aussie. Sliding his tongue in and his hands to fondle his hair, Emmet vainly stifled a moan and retaliated by gliding his hands under his tank top and stroking at his hips. 

Oliver watched with an all too familiar feeling creeping down lower from his gut that he felt the need to look away but he couldn’t bring himself to. He did quickly took a seat once he realized he was awkwardly standing there.

The kiss shortly ended after and Mundee nuzzled against the Emmet’s face, grinning. “Danke.”

The doctor hummed, immediately taking the last swig of his beer, “You’re lucky we’re walking.”

The Aussie wheezed with laughter.

Oliver felt his chest take flight again. He looked to Rene who was preoccupied with talking to that Texan and he swallowed, drowning any urges in his gut. Yet his imagination took ahold at how he could drag them both to the floor with him and bruise their skin with his mouth.

~~~

Oliver wasn’t there when Darling was yelling at him. He stood there in the storage room in the back part of the restaurant where the guests wouldn’t hear Darling telling his employees off. His brain felt dead as he stared distantly at the old man and the vein on his forehead pulsing. He could barely make out the words coming out of that giant mouth.

He did feel himself collide with the door and onto the floor however. His world went black as pain echoed throughout his body.

“Leave him there. I’m going out. Maggie is in charge, let her know.”

The voice and clambering footsteps rumbled throughout Oliver’s pounding head. His stomach twisted into knots.

“Fuck...”

“Hey, you there?”

It was hard and painful for him to open his eyes but when he did, he saw a petite waitress and, due to his blurry haze could only assume of asian decent, struggling to hold him up. “B-barely...”

“Your nose is bleeding. C’mon.”

That would explain why he tasted metal at the back of his throat. It was hard for him to breathe through his nose.

“Oh, hey Maggie, you’re in charge by the way--”

“What the fuck?! What the hell did he do to him?”

“The bastard punched him and he went flying from the door into the hall.”

“Christ almi-- Let me help.”

He felt four hands carry him to sit somewhere close to the floor. He was conscious enough to register he was sitting on a small stool. He tried opening his eyes again and watched the two women gather paper towels and wetting them.

“Oliver, Oliver baby?”

“Maggie?” He hated her for continuously calling him ‘baby’ in that sympathetic tone but right now it felt to be acceptable.

“I need you to tell me how many fingers I’m holding.”

He squinted at her hand swirling around his vision. “Two...?”

“He has a minor concussion.”

“Should we call someone?” Oliver felt something wet and almost sandpaper like under his nose. He flinched, tears wetting his eyes. “Sorry, Oliver, hang in there.”

“No, you know how Darling is about publicity. Can you get a bottled water for me?”

The wet sandpaper was being dabbed against his forehead, cheeks...

“Oliver, what was he saying to you?”

“Phuck ib I know.”

“... You were dissociating again, weren’t you?” Her voice held strain. Oliver could tell he was being lifted again, except now he was in a lap. He could hear Maggie’s heart up on his ear. She continued dabbed the paper towel on his face and wiping his nose as tears rolled down his face. “I know you hate it here, I do too, but this is getting out of hand.”

“I can’t helb it...” She’s soft...

“I know, I know, baby. Thank you, sweetheart. Drink, Oliver-- no no, you’re not touching it, you’re still shaking. Just let me know you’re done.”

Oliver nearly drank half the bottle before touching her hand to signal her to stop.

“Since, I’m in charge, you’re off until next week. How does that sound?”

“Good...” He looked up at her freckled, round face. Her eyes held such a softness that could only remind him of his own mother.

“Do you want me to call Angie?”

“No...”

“Oliver. Are you sure?”

“I-I’m not going home. I promised Mundee and Emmet I’d come over.”

“Do you need me to drive you there?”

“I-... I can walk.”

“We’ll see about that… Easy, now.” She helped Oliver onto his feet to which he nearly fell back down. Maggie immediately lifted him off of his feet, “Yeah, no, I’m driving you there. You just give me the directions.”  
“I just need to get my balance--”

“No, no, you’re coming with me, mister. I’ll be right back, Biyu, sweetheart. I won’t be long.”

~~~

Oliver felt more conscious now. He could fully register the sunlight, the cars, the wind without his eyes giving out on him.

“... Thanks, Maggie.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“Why would I?”

She smiled, “Glad to have your sense of humor back… Since we’re going up there, I think I should know your boyfriends a little better.”

“What?! You’re not going up there with me!”

“As if you can walk.”

“As if! In general! I can walk fine!”

“You said that earlier.”

“I’m more awake now.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” Maggie nudged his knee, “just tell me about them. I know what you’re thinking about. Let’s get your mind off it, shall we?”

“I’m just imagining you punching Charles square in the dick.”

“When I feel like being fired, I can do that and I’ll give you front row seats.”

Oliver snickered, “thanks… but, they are the best. They’re so… just great.”

“Is that the lovesickness talking?”

“No. They are great, despite their flaws. They really do love and care about me… I guess that just keeps surprising me.”

Maggie glanced over, but she didn’t say anything.

“What, Maggie?”

“I’m just sorry that you feel like that.”

“Heh… try being with eight brothers and Rene… I take that back, he’s actually starting to give a shit now.”

“Really? That’s great.”

“Yea... I’m surprised Charles didn’t say anything to you about it.”

Maggie blinked, “What do you mean? Left up here, right?”

“Yea. My dad bit his head off because he found out.”

“I can imagine. I’m really glad he stood up for you.”

“... Me too.”

“You do realize you called him your dad, right?”

“... Did I?”

“Yes?”

Oliver was silent.

“You gonna be okay over there?”

“Yeah, fine.”

~~~

“This is it. Just park along the road.”

Maggie turned on her blinker and parked in between two fords, “You going to try to walk?”

“Shut up. And yes.” Oliver clicked his seatbelt and opened the car door. Carefully, he hoisted himself out and stood there for a moment.

He heard Maggie open her side.

“Don’t-- I got it.” He walked over to the sidewalk, “See?”

“Fine. But call me, okay?”

“You gonna take me home? You sure about that? Anything can happen, I mean.”

“You’re right. Don’t call me then.” Maggie winked. “I am going to stay here until you get inside though.”

“I’m not going to trip.”

“Fucking walk, Leroy.”

“I’m going, I’m going.”

When Oliver entered the building, anxiety was like a wave crashing into his body. He was early. Really early. Fuck. They probably aren’t home.

He found it in himself to keep walking towards the elevator-- no that would take too long. He jogged up the stairs to the third floor and bolted down the hall until he arrived at the correct door.

He hesitated.

He took in a single breath and rapt abruptly on the wood.

Hearing shuffling on the other side only made him more antsy and he considered walking back to the bar.

The door opened and Mundee stood there in shock, “Oliver? What the hell are you doing here? Early. I mean. Did you walk?”

“Yes. Where’s Emmet?”

“Still at work-- What’s wrong?”

“I-I need to get this off my chest. I want Emmet to--”

“I can relay the message.” Mundee urged him in and sat him down, “Talk, darlin, what’s wrong?”

He felt his hands shaking again so he held them together, “You know that I told you I had a day job that I didn’t want you guys knowing about?

“Yea?”

“Well… my boss… he...” his tongue got caught in his throat, “fuck...”

“Take your time, darl.”

“At.. I should explain right. I hate my job. I fucking hate it. But my-- but Rene owes my boss so he gave him… me. To work since Rene can’t. And now I developed some sort of… fuck, I don’t know, I dissociate often whenever I work there. I don’t know why. It just happens the moment I step in after a while of working there. He… My boss sees it as me… slacking… and being… a moron so he… punches… sense into me. Literally.”

Mundee’s eyes had grown huge.

“It’s to the point that I can’t hear him when he’s criticizing me. I can still hear him. I can’t hear what he’s saying. I’m used to the yelling. But having him g-grab… me o-or my hair and pull me down...”

Mundee took him into his arms. “That’s why your nose is bruised-- ah, god, Oliver...”

“I hate him...” His voice cracked. He dug his head into the crook of Mundee’s neck. “I fucking hate him...”

“Let it out, darl,” he gave him a small kiss on his temple. “Let it out.”

~~~

They sat like that until the two fell asleep in each other’s arms. Neither one of them stirred when the door opened and Emmet stepped into the room.

For a moment, the doctor stood there in confusion before noticing that Oliver’s nose was bleeding and staining Mundee’s vest.

Quickly and quietly, he rushed to the kitchen and wetted a rag. With caution to not wake either of them up, he slowly removed Oliver from on top of the Aussie to have him sit upright and gently patted the rag against the boy’s bloody face.

That’s when he noticed the bruise.

He focused his attention on cleaning up Oliver than who to punch or where to find his saw to…

“Em...met?”

“Yes, Oliver?”

“You’re home…?”

His heart skipped a beat. “Indeed.”

“... My nose is bleeding again, isn’t it?”

The doctor cracked a small smile, “Yes, Mundee has to change clothes now.”

“Oh… sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, liebling.” He wanted to know what happened but he did not try to press the sleepy Oliver.

Silence gently rained down as Emmet finished cleaning his face and neck. “Hold this to your nose for a moment while I get tissues.”

“Kay.”

“Darl…?”

“Guten Abend, Mundee. Due change your shirt when you are fully awake.”

The Aussie sat up and looked down at his vest, “Jesus Christ, did I kill someone?”

“Sorry,” Oliver moaned, frowning.

“You’re fine, darl--” he grunted as he lifted himself off the couch.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have--”

Emmet interrupted him, “Ah, ah, ah, do not concern yourself with should have’s or shouldn’t have’s. What’s done is done. You’re here now and we’re taking care of you, yes?”

Oliver heaved loudly, “Right, yea, s--”

“Shh shhhh, it’s okay now.” Emmet sat back down and handed him a box of tissues and a bottle of water. “So. Who do I need to kill?”

Oliver was thankful that he was not drinking when he said that, “... What?”

“The swinehund that punched you.”

“Emmet.” Mundee called from their bedroom, “This is an intervention. Don’t kill anyone.”

The German huffed.

“Uh… my boss. At my day job. He’s an abusive fuckhat… because I am not… always there, when I work there.”

“Dissociation?”

“Yea. I’d quit if Rene didn’t give me to him because he owes my boss.”

Emmet hummed.

“Emmet.” Mundee stepped into the living room with a new shirt, “I know what you’re thinking, and I’m telling you to stop.”

“I can say it was self defense.”

“Emmet.”

“Mein Gott, fine.”

Oliver was getting the inclination that this has happened before, so he ventured. “... Emmet? Have… you killed someone?”

“He _nearly_ killed someone.” The Aussie corrected, “ _Someone_ needs to work out their anger and violent tendencies.”

The doctor got up and wandered over to the tv. “I think it’s time for us to set up the movie, don’t you think?”

Oliver looked over at Mundee, “He probably shouldn’t be a doctor.”

The artist snorted.

“They are dummkopfs. If it wasn’t illegal there would be less diseases.”

“You’d kill them all?”

“And burn them. I will never understand why anyone think it’s better off to put them in the ground.” Oliver could hear Mundee quietly saying ‘here we go again’ as Emmet continued, “Burying them in the ground only creates more viruses and burning them would speed up the decomposition. An--... what movie did we decide?”

“A thriller.”

“Um...” Oliver piped up, “Can we watch something… I don’t know, lighthearted?”

“Of course.” Emmet looked through the cupboard under the tv and pulled out a case, “Singing in The Rain?”

Oliver smiled, “I’m fine with that as long if you don’t mind me singing along.”

“As long as you’re not too loud, darl.”

~~~

Mundee was making dinner for Emmet during the first part of the movie and got Oliver a bowl vanilla ice cream drizzled in chocolate syrup. The boy leaned against the doctor as he hummed along with the first song of the movie.

It was until Mundee sat down that Oliver spoke, “You know when I first saw this when I was like, ten, Cosmo was my first guy crush.”

Emmet nodded, “I can see why.” 

Mundee smiled, “He reminds me a little of you.”

“You need me to run into shit and up walls to get you guys to laugh?”

“If you want to clean up afterwards, sure.”

~~~

The movie was nice for his mental state that he was sad that it ended. Oliver glanced at the clock on the wall that read ten twenty-two.

Oliver felt comfortable, warm under the blanket and sandwiched in between Mundee and Emmet. It felt so so nice.

Homely, even.

That was too soon. Way too soon to even have those thoughts. He watched the doctor remove himself from the couch to take out the disk.

“… I… I really don’t want to go back.”

Emmet straightened up. The Aussie wrapped an arm around his waist, “You don’t want to go home, Oliver?”

“Work too.”

Emmet looked at him sullenly then determinedly, “Tomorrow. Are you free?”

“After singing? Yea? Why?”

“That’s not free.”

Mundee caught on, “When are you not working at your day and night job?”

“I--” He recalled Maggie had taken care of his schedule. “The day after tomorrow? Or friday.”

“Why don’t we take you out on a whole day date.”

Oliver nodded vigorously, “I’d… I’d really really like that.”

The German looked pleased with himself, “So now we all have something to look forward to.”

Mundee paused, “but Emmet, your work and mine--”

“I’ll compromise.”

“Emmet.”

“We’ll talk about it later, liebling. Let’s get Oliver back to the bar.”

“You know you prolong the subject when you’re excited, right?”

“Later. I’m putting my shoes on.”

Oliver couldn’t help giggling, “Emmet, you don’t gotta make, you know, time for me, yea? I wouldn’t want to be a bother or anything.”

Emmet paused, “I… I did get ahead of myself, didn’t I?”

“A little bit.”

“Richtig, we’ll sort it out. We both see what we can do, yes, Mundee?”

“Right.”

~~~  
When the motorbike parked next to the sidewalk of the bar, Oliver hesitated for a while before removing the helmet and jumping out of the side car. He didn’t get far before the two pulled him into a group hug.

Their hugs were vastly different from Maggie’s. He felt like he belonged in their arms. He felt relaxed... But then they surprised him and the two kissed the sides of his face, fairly close to his lips. It was like a bolt of lightning adrenaline shot through his body. Oliver’s eyes fluttered as his legs turned to jello.

“Heh, easy there, luv.”

“I love you guys--” Oliver quickly cover his mouth. By the looks up flushed surprise on both of their faces, Oliver wanted to shrivel up and hide. “Fffffuck that was too soon, was--?”

“We love you too, Oliver.”

A chill ran down his spine as a big smile covered his face and his body shook from adrenaline. Going back home now felt like a foreign concept to him. 

Kiss them.

Now.

Oliver’s eyes grew to the size of plates when he realized that Mundee had beat him to the kiss. His chapped lips pushed hard against his own. In retaliation, his hands shot up to fumble through the Aussie’s greasy hair. The kiss was shorter than what he would like. He was growing accustomed to having Mundee’s hands stroking along his lower back.

Emmet shook his head. “You just couldn’t help yourself, could you?” 

“Sorry, I, yeah… but look at him! He’s adorable...”

“Ja, ja,” Emmet took Oliver’s hand and lifted it to his lips. “Good night, Schatz.”

He was blinking wildly again. Right. He should be leaving. “Um, yeah, uh, y-you guys… take care.”

“We will.”

“Kay- you you do that.”

“Alright-- That’s a door, Oliver.” Mundee called before the boy ran into it.

“So it is. Kay, good night.” Oliver gave a final wave before going inside.

Emmet looked over at the artist, “You broke him.”

He snorted, “You helped.”

“You need to be more careful. Rene could have been watching that.”

“Rene should be minding his own fucking business.”

The doctor merely rolled his eyes as he put his helmet back on.

~~~

Oliver woke up abruptly at a pillow being wacked at him, “What the fuck?! What??”

Edwin hit him a few more times, “Stop fucking moaning! We can hear you down the hallway!”

Oliver blinked a few times to adjust to the bright lights and looked at the clock that read five thirty six. “I-- Moaning?”

Riley, who was at the door frame, grinned, “Yea, sounded like you were really enjoying whatever you were dreaming about. I wanted to film it but Edwin wouldn’t let me.”

“That’s because I have a fucking appointment tomorrow-- today, and this fucker had to have a goddamn wet dream.”

Oliver awkwardly lied there, having no memory of a steamy dream and feeling uncomfortably warm.

“How much you wanna bet it was about those creeps he’s been dating?”

“I’m right here, Riley.”

“Well, was it?”

Edwin rolled his eyes in an extravagant way, “I’m going to bed. If you fuckers are going to talk, do it quietly.”

Riley smirked down at the younger brother, trying to ignore him. “Dreaming you were their bitch, weren’t you?”

“Would you stop asking demeaning questions?”

“Ooo, big words for a fag.”

Sparking with energy, Oliver ripped the covers off his bed and hopped up and charged at Riley, who shrieked like a goat as he ran down the hallway with his brother at his heels.

At the bar, Oliver managed to jump him in the dark and pin him down, blindly throwing punches. Riley desperately regained awareness to fight back. “Stop calling me--a fag-- you dick!”  
The two were briefly blinded by the sudden bright overhead lights. Oliver froze and quickly got up and faced Angie and Rene who stood arms folded at the stairwell.

Riley staggered onto his feet, holding his nose, “Maaaaa...”

“Are you bleeding?” Angie called out.

“No?”

“Then walk it off, get back upstairs. I’ll get to you in a second.”

“Why me? That one attacked me!”

“En haut.” Rene commanded, pointing.

Begrudgingly, Riley obeyed. Oliver stayed put, fear glistening in his eyes.

“Oliver,” Angie spoke gently, “Rene and I are trying to get Riley to understand and the rest of your brothers, but… Ah, god. Ignoring them isn’t working, is it?”

Rene prompted, “Are you alright?”

Oliver briefly touched his neck, “Yeah, I’m fine. I’m sorry f-for waking you up.”

Angie shrugged, “Shit happens. C’mere, baby.”

The boy obeyed and his mother gave him a long embrace and kissed his temple. Oliver glanced over at Rene who awkwardly kept his hands to himself. So he held out a hand and watched relief washed over his step-father’s face as he accepted the hand and squeezed it. When Angie broke the hug, they quickly released hands.  
“Alright, let’s all go back to bed shall we? After we have a talk with the whiny one, of course. Riley! Get your ass down here!”

“You guys do that, I’m going for a run.”

“Be safe, hun.”


	8. Final Step

Oliver was bored and Angie took advantage of that by sending him off to do errands. The mall is nearby, she said. It won’t take long, she said. Well, there were dark clouds forming so he had to hurry. What was it again? She had ordered something from some clothes store, some dress that she wanted him to pick up for her. He would know the store by looking at it, he had stood outside it often while he was a teenager, waiting for his mother to hurry up so he could look at the video games.

He jogged up the broken escalator and saw the pink neon sign which had words that Oliver could only recognize as scribbles. He treaded into the store which had cases along the walls of jewelry and dresses only meant to be looked at. Oliver felt like anxiety pump through his veins. One wrong step and something glass would break.

As he walked up to the woman behind one of the glasses cases, he didn’t notice the man beside him that did not notice him either. Before he could open his mouth, the man beat him to the punch, “Do you have an order here for Angie Leroy?”

Rene was standing right beside him. Oliver stood with wide eyes until his brain finally processed his surroundings once again. He watched the lady go to the back room before saying, “Old man, did you forget she goes by Christopher?”

He nearly laughed at Rene’s shocked expression before it delved into confusion, “I am fairly certain her surname is Leroy. She was not hesitant to take my name.”

Oliver opened his mouth wide but quickly closed it with a snap, withdrawing his eyes and rubbing his neck.

Rene looked at him, “... Were you going to say something?”

“Y-yeah. I was gonna say somethin’... mean. Wait, why the fuck are you here?”

“Language. I am here for Angie’s order. She wanted me out of the house.”

… Of course. Oliver crossed his arms, “You know, that’s the exact same thing she said to me.”

Rene shook his head slightly, a ghost of a smile on his lips “I should have known. She is a smart lady. She married someone who couldn’t outsmart her or recognized he was being tricked before it was too late.”

Oliver had to bite his tongue.

“... You’re quiet.”

“Yup.”

“I’m not used to that.”

“Yep.”

His eyebrows knitted, “Why?”

“Trying to break a habit here, man…” He quickly changed the subject due to the unfamiliar tender gaze upon him, “Why did she do this?”

“For us to talk, I’m sure.”

“Yea? About what? Your bald sp-- sorry. You don’t have one by the way. Bald spot. You look good for you know, fifty or sixty, whatever...”

Oliver tried to run out with the bag the customer service lady handed to him, but Rene’s reflexes were quick. The death grip on the boy’s arm cut off all circulation as they exited the store. The Frenchman eventually let go.

“Jesus...” Oliver shook out his arm.

“Your flight tendency is a bit out of control.”

“No it ain’t--”

“Then why did you try to escape?”

“I...” Oliver massaged his forearm. “... Not used to you looking at me like that. It was weird.”

“Like what…?”

“Amazement, I guess.”

“Well, I was amazed. You were stopping yourself from insulting me.”

“So what?”

“... So what?”

“Yea, I mean--” Oliver’s face scrunched up as he kept his eyes on the floor. “Whatever.”

“No, not whatever. You have something on your mind.”

“Yeah, sure--”

A bright light and thunderous noise illuminated and filled the mall for a brief moment before the sound of rain drowned out the mall residents’ chatter.

Oliver’s form deflated as he watched the downpour outside from the windows. “Dammit.”

“I’m sure she accounted for the weather too...” Rene gazed at his stepson who was still glaring at the rain pelting against the windows. Well, if they were going to be here for some time, they might as well do something.

“Would you prefer to sit down, Oliver?”

“Fine.”

Rene took the lead by guiding him to the food court. He occasionally glanced beside him to noticed that Oliver’s expression never changed. It set the gears in his head churning… That’s right. Those two men who frequented the bar.

Oliver abruptly grabbed a table and sat down, fishing out his phone.

Rene sat across from him. Words swum around his head as he tried to put his thoughts together. He didn’t know how to begin or how to end it. What points he wanted to make.

“Oliver.”

“What?”

“Despite of what you may think, I don’t hate them.”

His eyes stayed glued to his phone, “Oh, I know. They’re too old for me. Is that the next thing you were going to say?”

“No.” Rene took a breath, “I was going to say that I was also in a polyamorous relationship. I was younger than you during that time.”

Oliver looked up.

“We were all around the same age. Similar personalities. All of us were too stubborn to own up to our responsibilities.”

“Are you saying I’m--”

“Did I mention you?”

Oliver quieted down.

“... Anyway, we couldn’t handle it when we thought we could, and it broke our friendship more than it should have.” He took another lung full of air, “I am only worried that because of how much older they are compared to you that you will meet the same fate I did.”

“That why you talk to Tavish?”

“Tavish has been friends with me longer than he has been with you. He has more experience with people-- I am not saying anything against you, Oliver. I am stating facts.” he ran his tongue over his lips, “I did ask him a few questions about your… boyfriends, yes. Only because I wanted background information that I knew you didn’t have.”

“I do now--”

“I know you do, but at the time, you didn’t when I needed it.”

Oliver heaved an audible sigh.

“I’m afraid of you making the same mistakes I did.”

“Well, guess what?” He sat up, a squeak arose from the chair at the sudden movement. “My mistakes ain’t yours. If it happens, it’s going to be my fault. And look, if it does I am going to be sad for a while but I’ll own up to it! But you know, I know it ain’t going to happen any time soon. We communicate like we’re supposed to. We work things out… I’m doing what you couldn’t.”

Rene listened to this with keen interest, “Good. You should always strive for the things I can’t do. I want you to be better than me.”

“Then I will be...” Oliver fell silent, his eyes scanning as if he was reading from a sheet a paper, “... Dad?”

Rene felt like he got shot through the chest. “Yes?”

“You’re not taking those antidepressants, are you?”

“... No.”

“Do me a favor. Strive to be better than yourself. Okay? Because… giving up now would be a waste… and I’m-- I’m proud of you for talking to me about this.”

Tears streamed down Rene’s stunned face that he quickly wiped with his the back of his hands. He thought it awkward for a grown man to cry in public and yet he couldn’t stop.

Oliver frowned but said nothing. He stood up from his seat and rounded the table and forced Rene onto his feet. The boy embraced him tightly with his head buried in his neck. Rene was frozen. All of this was happening so fast. It was the first he was called _dad_ without mockery or distaste on Oliver’s tongue. On top of that, Oliver was proud of him. It was too much to take in that he didn’t know what to do. His body reacted for him and returned the embrace just as tightly with trembling hands.

It felt weird to hug for Oliver and yet it was something he craved for too long that no one else could fill. Tears swelled up and dripped onto Rene’s suit. He did not want to let go-- Rene’s phone buzzed.

Remembering where they were, the two nearly gave themselves whiplash when they pulled away. The Frenchman fumbled for his phone.

“Angie. She--’I have an umbrella meet me out front’.”

Oliver did not hesitate in grabbing the bag and Rene’s wrist to hurry down to the main floor. Rene only let out a squeak at the jerk but was managing to keep up with him until they reached the front entrance and found Angie standing at the doorway with an umbrella over her head.

She grinned at the two, “Good! You two don’t look too angry.”

“Yeah, thanks for setting us up.” Oliver mumbled as he pushed the bag into her open arms.

“No problem--now hurry up, before I get a ticket for parking right there.”

Rene’s shoulders sagged, “Ma am--”

“I said hurry up! You have no time to lecture me right now!”

Reluctantly, the Frenchman sought after them and took the umbrella from Angie when she got to her side of the car and held it there so she would not get soaked.

“Thank you, dear.” She said before closing the door.

Oliver rolled his eyes with a smile. “You’re a bad influence.”

She craned her head back to stick her tongue out at him. When Rene got situated in the car, Angie stepped on the gas and the car sped off.

Rene grabbed hold of the passenger handle, “Please, ma'cheri be careful. It’s raining.”

“I’m careful! Have I ever been in a car accident? Gotten a ticket?”

“No--”

“Ha.”

Oliver snorted, “She’s got you there.”

“Please, do not side with her.”

Eventually, they stopped at a red light. Angie looked through the bag at her dress and smiled, “Well done, fellas.”

Her smile dropped when she looked at Rene, “Your lil eyes are red.”

When the Frenchman didn’t speak up to explain, Oliver took the wheel, “We had a, uh, moment. A good one.”

“... Well. That’s good.” She was pleased at herself. The light turned green and the two men’s head both hit their headrests when the car lurched forward. “I’m glad our anniversary is off to a good start.”

“Ohhhh...” That had slipped through the cracks of Oliver’s mind. He had to sustain his laugh when he noticed that Rene must have briefly forgot as well with the look on his face. “That’s what the dress is for?”

“Yea, we’re going out for the weekend. Be back monday.”

“Bar will be closed, right?”

“Oh yeah, definitely.” She looked at him in the rearview mirror, “Now, I know it won’t be your fault, Oliver, if one of your brothers decide to throw a party and try to pin it on you.”

He smiled a little, “Thanks, ma.”

~~~

Mundee was asleep at the cashier table. His lanky legs prompt up on the counter and his hat covered his face, muffling his snoring. The other two employees, Ginger and Paula, out of boredom had nearly finished cleaning the floor. Due to the rain, most sane people wouldn’t think about getting a tattoo because of how water affects fresh ink in the skin. That didn’t stop the bell from jingling when the screen door opened.

“We’re cl-- Dr. Emmet!” Ginger gave him a friendly wave and a smile.

The doctor smiled back as he folded his umbrella, “Guten Tag, Damen.”

Paula nudged at the googly-eyed Ginger and hissed, “He’s taken.”

“And?”

Paula rolled her green eyes, eager to move on, “I hope you don’t want a tattoo today, Dr. Emmet, otherwise you would have to stay in until the storm goes away.”

“Nein, I am just checking in on my break.” He shook his head at the sleeping Aussie. “You two are lucky he’s the manager.”

“I know right?” Paula elbowed Ginger again to make her stop staring.

“Would you let me browse?!”

“It’s uncomfortable--”

“Would you like a picture?” Emmet intervened.

“Ah! Really?”

He gave her a too cheery smile, “No.”

Ginger deflated which sent Paula into a snorting fit, “You got fucked!”

Emmet muttered deutsch profanities as he exhaled. He leaned over and tapped Mundee on his shoulder. The Aussie didn’t stir. Hmm... Now that he was thinking about it, Emmet took the hat and placed it on his own head for good measure.

“Mundeeee,” he sang, giving his cheek a few pokes.

His eyes squeezed then cracked open. He blinked a few times and stretched out his back, grunting.

“Good, I didn’t need to kiss you awake this time.”

“I ain’t a bloody princess...” Mundee mumbled, scratching his side.

“You _ain’t_ a sleeping beauty either. You were drooling.”

The Aussie wiped the sides of his mouth and flicked any saliva off his fingers. It took him a moment to remember where he was and his eyes opened, “... Emmet?”

“I’m just here to stop by. Don’t look too concerned.”

Mundee smiled and hoisted himself up. He leaned over and kissed the doctor briefly on the lips. “That my hat?”

“No, it’s mine now.”

“Not sure if patients would take you seriously with that on.”

“All the more reason to scare them with fake diagnoses.”

“You’re awful.” He leaned in for another kiss, a little longer this time.

He loved the way blush looked on the doctor’s face. Emmet combed his hair back, “I’m surprised you haven’t closed for today.”

Mundee shrugged, “I think my employees would prefer to do something for money. Isn’t that right?”

The two paused in their cleaning. Ginger saluted while Paula gave a thumbs up. Ginger yelled, “You’re giving us a thousand, right?!”

“A charmer, that one.” Emmet huffed.

Mundee surprised him with another kiss.

“Why are you doing this?”

“The color suits you.”

The German scoffed. “And you can’t wait until we’re alone, can you?”

“It is a bit hard since you’re right here.”

“You’re hopeless.” Emmet poked the end of his nose and turned to leave.

“You’re going already?”

“I said I was checking in not staying!”

Mundee gave him a playful pout. “Can I at least have my hat back?”

Emmet tossed it towards him like he was throwing a frisbee and it skirted along the counter and fell on the other side. Mundee swiped it off the floor, holding in a laugh. “Danke.”

The doctor left without another word.

“Where did you even find him?” Ginger dared to ask, “Was it like one of those soap opera meetings where you first meet in his hospital??”

“Our meeting wasn’t as romantic as you imagine, Gin.”

“Aww.”

Paula pulled her back to her duties. “We’re nearly done, Mr. Mun-dee.”

“Nice… You two want to head out early?”

Ginger raised her hand. Paula gave her sharp daggers to which she frowned at, “What? It’s movie night! We still getting paid?”

“Yup.”

“Alright! Bye, suckers!”

The two watched her grab for her umbrella at the front door and march out. Paula set her eyes firmly on Mundee, “Your new hire is a dumbass.”

Mundee gave her a grim smile, “Why do you think I don’t let her touch the needles?”

“Pfff, then why give her the job?”

“Her dad paid me enough.”

“Oh my god-- Are you for real?”

“Gotta eat, mate.”

“Dude, you’re living with a doctor that makes like, a million dollars a year. I think money is the last thing you need to worry about--”

Mundee pointed at her, “... Twenty, right?”

“Yeah?”

“Most of that money is in savings. If you don--”

“Jesus, are really? You really giving me that talk? I know how to save.”

He plopped the hat back on his head, “You tell me that in five years.”

“You got it, old man.” Paula picked up her umbrella and sauntered out of the shop.

Mundee locked the door behind her and hung up the “closed” sign. Exhaling, he stretched again. Alone. He has always been used to that feeling due to having the apartment to himself most of the day and even before then. Always alone. It never felt lonely to him. He closed the blinds and turned to the old CD player. He checked the disk tray and then pressed play.

Jazz emitted from the speakers and echoed throughout the parlor. Accompanied by the rain, it caused the atmosphere to become much more serene.

Mundee couldn’t help his feet moving along to the music.

~~~

Emmet came home to a Mundee conked out on the couch. A ghost of smile trailed on his lips as he stripped out of his raincoat.

“Mundee, Mundee, Mundee. Always sleeping...” He mused.

Emmet waltz over and placed a hand to cup his face… which was hot to the touch. “Schiesse! Why are you burning up!?”

At his shout, Mundee flinched awake and groaned.

“What is the meaning of this? You’re sick!”

“Ain’t sick...”

“If you would open your eyes to see my face...”

“Nah…”

Emmet put his hands on his hips, “You were out in the rain without an umbrella, weren’t you?”

“What gave you that idea?”

“Mundee.”

“Mmmmmmmm.”

“You’re delusional.”

“Noooo…” Mundee rolled onto his side.

Emmet headed to the kitchen and fetched him a wet rag and water.

“I know you normally sleep these colds off but you still need to drink.”

“Fine...” He fumbled for the water bottle and managed to get some in his mouth.

“Is there anything else you need?”

“You?”

Emmet snorted, “Besides that?”

“.... Yeah. Can you go see Oliver for me?”

He blinked, “Oliver?”

“Yea.”

“... Elaborate, Mundee.”

“I can’t see him.”

“...” Emmet took another breath, “You want me to see him because you can’t?”

“Yea.” He added after another sip, “Just humor me, Em. Please. I’m really tired.”

“Okay, alright. I’ll get ready and go see him.” It was no use to trying to persuade a sick Mundee when he had his mind on something.

~~~

Emmet hated driving in the rain but at least it wasn’t as much as a downpour as earlier in the day. A light shower he could handle in a regular jacket. However, the streetlights were making halos because of his strong glasses, which was giving him a headache. And the damn night glasses were in that coat he hung up.

He didn’t beat himself up for forgetting the coat. It was already heavy enough from the rain before and bringing that into a bar would most likely be a hazard for people walking in.

He parked alongside the sidewalk and stared at the bar. There wasn’t a sign that said whether or not the bar was open but through the windows he could see Oliver with a broom and hear muffled music playing from a phone on the bar. Slowly, he got off the bike and advanced to the door. He paused in reaching for the handle.

Was this weird what he was doing right now?

It had to be closed. Even if they had a relationship, he shouldn’t just march in there like he owned the place.

He withdrew his hand and turned to leave. That was when the door opened behind him.

“Emmet?”

Okay, he did not count on the boy seeing him.

“What’s up?”

He looked at him and for first time he was lost for words.

“Oh, uh, my parents are celebrating their anniversary, so, we closed up for the weekend. I guess, you didn’t see it on our website?”

“N-no, I didn’t.”

Oliver shrugged, “Well, since you’re my boyfriend you get special privileges, c’mon.”

“That’s a bit unprofessional.”

“Get in here. I’ll get you a towel.”

Emmet thanked him and removed his jacket once he stepped inside. “I am sorry to give you more things to clean.”

“Eh, it’s alright. Was bored anyway.”

Now that he could hear the music better, the lyrics were in French, accompanied with acoustic guitar. It made the bar feel more homely and less empty. He stood there until Oliver returned from upstairs with a towel.

“Here-- You want something to drink? We’ve got vodka.”

“Warum nicht… I did not know you listened to this kind of music.”

Oliver blinked, “Oh, that, yeah. Well, you know, I don’t listen to it often.”

“Remind me, you do speak French, yes?” Emmet took a seat at one of the highchairs.

Oliver grabbed a wine glass, “You want me to translate?”

“I was thinking more sing.”

He watched his ears turn red. “Oh. I mean, I don’t know these too well. There’s one I know pretty good though, but it’s not as jazzy.”

“You’d give me a personal show?”

“Why not-- Where’s Mun?”

“Sick, because someone wished to dance in the rain.”

He snorted.

“He usually sleeps these things off, so it’s best for me not to bother him...” _and he wanted me to come..._

“Was it bad coming here?”

“Nein, it was fine. The lights did give me a headache...”

“Heh, if this shit won’t help, I don’t know what will.” He scratched his neck, “Other than beer, I guess but we’re out. Here.”

Emmet whirled the glass and took a swig, “Danke… What song were you referring to?”

Oliver hesitated, “Le Vie En Rose.”

“That is a fairly romantic song. I’m surprised you haven’t sung that on stage.”

“My brothers hate it.”

“... Oh.”

“They think French sounds stupid. They ain’t the smartest to learn something that ain’t English.”

“They strike me to be the types to think English is the superior language.”

“Don’t get Edwin started on that. Cody knows Spanish and some Italian only because of school. Riley is a dumbass.”

“What all do you know?”

“Eh, French, Spanish, bit of Russian. Kinda want to learn some German.”

Emmet smiled, “I’m sure I can help you with that.”

“Yeah?”

“I see nothing wrong with it.”

“... Cool.” Emmet was falling hard for that lopsided grin.

“You are too cute… Do humor me, you usually dance to those songs, if you were to sing Le Vie En Rose, how would you go about it?”

“... You finished with your drink?”

“Yes?”

“I’ll show you.” Oliver picked up his phone and his fingers were set to work before setting it back down. He rounded the bar and stood beside Emmet’s seat. Just as the saxophone ended, Oliver’s voice lulled throughout the bar as he held his hand out for the doctor to take.

He was to dance too? There was a small bit of hesitation before Emmet accepted his hand and slid off the stool.

Oliver took control, their dance took form of a slow waltz. 

_Il me dit des mots d’amour_  
Des mots de tous les jours  
Et ça me fait quelque chose

_Il est entré dans mon cœur_  
Une part de bonheur  
Dont je connais la cause 

_C’est toi pour moi, moi pour toi dans la vie  
Il me l’a dit, l’a juré pour la vie_

Emmet was hypnotized by his voice that his body was at the mere will of the boy as they danced in between tables. Oliver became acutely aware of his surroundings and feelings as he led. His heart was pulsing hard against his chest. He knew his face must be a bright color of pink. It wasn’t from nervousness. He had not danced so close to someone. In a traditional waltz, two people are to have at least their clothes be brushing against each other. He could practically feel Emmet’s heartbeat but that was on purpose. 

The song was intimate but the mood was not for a tango, so he improvised.

The map of the bar ingrained in his head took full effect as if he had done this dance a million times before. His head against his as he sang into his neck, letting his lips brush up on his skin. He could feel Emmet’s breath stifle at times.

His clothes were damp but the warmth underneath was mesmerizing. Oliver wanted to be enveloped in it.

_Et dès que je l’aperçois_  
Alors je sens en moi  
Mon cœur qui bat

Oliver wasn’t able to hold the last note because of the lips that encased his and a moan was it’s replacement. His hands clung onto Emmet’s wet shirt and fumbled with his hair as Emmet pulled him as close as he physically could, like this was a final goodbye. Oliver didn’t want this to end. He found his home.

Oliver whined when the warmth of his lips faded. Gentle kisses trailed his jawline.

“Oh, Oliver. Mein Oliver. That was wonderful.” Low, raw, his voice had that growl that sent trembling sensations down his spine.

Emmet nuzzled his nose on his neck. He placed a few more kisses towards his shoulder.

_Ting-ting--thud_

The two froze. Recalling their surroundings, Oliver immediately forced himself away from Emmet to turn to meet his three brothers watching from the stairwell. A phone had dropped a few steps down which Riley quickly sought after.

Fear and rage ate at his heart. Oliver glowered at the three, “Of course. It’s because of you three I can’t have nice things!”

“Hey, we were all just checking why you were blasting gay music--” Riley’s words were cut off by Cody standing up, leaning over the railing. His face beat red.

“That was-- really pretty!”

Oliver blinked, somewhat surprised. Then he noticed where his eyes were looking at and his blood was set to boiling. He side stepped in front of Emmet, “Hey! Flirt with him and I’ll knock out your teeth!

“He’s poly!”

“Dude! You can’t just ask!”

“Why not?”

“Cause it’s not how this relationship works, alright?! He doesn’t even know you!”

“What’s stopping him from getting to know me?”

Emmet kept quiet during this interruption but it was that prior question was when he decided to answer that himself. Out of pure frustration, he stepped alongside Oliver and turned him around before he could speak.

Oliver’s expression changed drastically, “Em, are yo--? Mmph!”

His hands felt up his sides as his tongue skirted along his lower lip. His comforting warmth encased him again and now inside his mouth. Oliver turned into a puddle in his arms, all of anger drained from his body. 

Taking that statement as a warning to leave them alone, the two had to drag Cody back up stairs.

“Emmeett...” That sparked a flare in his heart.

“You shouldn’t say my name like that unless you want me to take you home.”

“Emmeett.” He looked at him with pleading eyes, “Please…?”

“... When did you say your parents would be home?”

“Uh, Monday.”

“Then pack enough for until Monday.”

“A-are you serious?”

He was taking a leap without considering the consequences, but he didn’t want to think of what could happen if those four brothers were left to their own devices, being at least two of them being homophobic and the other… a little too forward.

“I do not kid about things like this.”

Oliver stared at him speechless. Out of instinct, he planted a kiss that nearly missed the mouth entirely. His grin was filled with relief and joy, “I-i… y-... Stay? You?”

Emmet couldn’t help laughing, “Yes, I’ll wait for you.”

He nodded vigorously and finally took off up the stairs like a bolt of lightning.

...

Boy, was Mundee in for a big surprise whenever he wakes up.


	9. Last Straw

Mundee woke up to see dancing circles around his vision. He groaned, wiping his eyes. Fuck, he felt tired but not sickly tired. His nose and the pillow under his head felt wet. Ew. 

He got up slowly, blinking hard. Slow as a slug, he took off the pillow case and took a guess toss behind him. Upon hearing the case hit the floor with a hard thud, he guessed he missed the wash basket. He was too froggy to try to fix it now. Mundee stretched out his shoulders and fumbled for the tissue box to clean off the mess from his nose. What time is it? Carefully, he got off the couch with a grunt and stumbled over to the kitchen.

6:48

He got more hours than he usually slept for, so that’s nice. Might as well make coffee while he was awake.

He could somehow remember what happened last night after he doused himself with nyquil the moment he got home. He saw Emmet over him. He recalled asking him to see Oliver for him. At the time of his drugged state, he honestly wanted Emmet out of the house so he could sleep without interruption from the doctor. Since he couldn’t remember anything afterward, he wondered how the trip went.

Emmet had come home safe, that was apparent by the coat rack gaining another jacket. Good.

Mundee let out a yawn and held his eyes shut as he listened to the coffee maker bubble. He felt fuzzy. He briefly wondered if he was dreaming. How long does nyquil last for?

"Mornin' Mun..." Freckled arms wrapped around his stomach. He felt a small body press against him. Yup, he was dreaming and a really nice dream at that.

"Mornin' luv," he turned to face a sleepy but content Oliver and kissed the corner of his mouth.

“Heh… I didn’t think you’d do that.”

“What do you mean?”

Oliver rubbed his eyes, “I thought you’d freak out?”

“... What?”

For a moment, Mundee expected this dream to suddenly melt into a nightmare, but Oliver stared at him in sleepy bewilderment.

“Mundee, you do know you’re awake, right?”

Mundee felt wide awake immediately.

"Oliver...?" He said slowly.

"Yes? It’s me, Mun."

"You're-- Em..." Gears were finally set in motion. Emmet didn--no, Oliver was proof. "He did."

Oliver stifled a yawn, "I’m missing a lot of your inner monologue here but I’m guessing you caught on."

Did he help Emmet with this…? How drunk was he last night? His back straightened up and his gaze hardened when Emmet emerged from the bedroom, stretching. The moment the two had locked eyes, the German’s face paled.

… Emmet sprinted for the front door.

Mundee beat him to the punch and stood in front of the entrance. “What’re you running for?”

“Right there, that face.” Emmet was backing up now with a sheepish grin.

“What’s wrong with it?” 

“You look like you want to skin me alive, so if you don’t mi--” He tripped and fell onto the couch. The doctor seemed to shrink as the Aussie towered over him.

"Emmet Ludwig Humbolt."

“Really? The Ludwig--?"

"Emmet _Ludwig_ Humbolt. Why?"

Oliver stared at the two with growing confusion as he hesitantly entered the scene. Emmet’s gaze wandered over to him before looking back to the unhappy Mundee. "... It was a good idea at the time. And I still think it is."

“Were you drunk?”

Emmet lifted a finger but Oliver spoke before he could make the scene worse. "Mun, my parents are out doing anniversary shit. It wasn't really smart of them to leave all four of us alone in a closed bar. Especially since... you know"

Mundee’s stance relaxed, "... Okay now that you give context I am not as mad... but you still kidnapped him."

"I did not kidnap him! He agreed! That's the difference between kidnapping and--"

"Emmet..."

“He left a note! He t--”

“Do you not… want me here, Mun?” Oliver asked timidly, his fingers fumbling at the hem of his shirt.

His eyes grew to the size of basketballs. He cupped the boy’s face, “No, no, no no no! I… Ollie, I am really happy you’re here. Really. I am-- It just would have been great if SOMEONE gave me some warning!”

“What?! The house is clean enough! You were asleep!”

“You could’ve--”

“You were sick… And I knew you wouldn’t mind.”

“You can’t just--”

Emmet stood up, with all knowing gaze that sent the Aussie’s heart into his stomach. “Mundee, how many times have you whined about wanting Oliver to come visit more often so you could snuggle him and kiss his freckles?” He grinned wickedly as he put on his best Australian accent, “‘Emmmeettt, I miss hiiimmmmm’.”

Mundee looked like wanted to crawl into a hole and die his face was so red. So Oliver took it into his own hands by cupping his face and giving him what they both wanted.

His lips were chapped but really nice. Oliver pulled away with a puppy-like smile at his pleasantly astonished expression, “I love you too. You have morning breath by the way.”

The corners of his mouth lifted a little, “You don’t smell like daisies either.”

“You’re welcome.” Emmet beamed.

“... Can I hit him?”

Oliver winked, “Yeah, you can hit him.”

Mundee grabbed a pillow and whacked Emmet across his face that knocked him back down onto the sofa. After his short daze, he quickly retaliated by grabbing a pillow of his own and threw it at the Aussie’s head.

“Are you sure you want to start this?” Emmet had another pillow in his hand, ready to pounce.

Mundee raised his cushion above his head but halted at the sound of the coffee beeping for attention. 

The Aussie glowered down at him, “We’ll settle this later.” and threw his pillow at Emmet’s general direction before sprinting into the kitchen.

“Does this happen often?” Oliver laughed.

“Eh, sometimes, we stopped because last time Mundee broke the lam--”

“YOU broke the lamp!”

“I’m not the one who reflected the pillow!”

“I’m not the one who threw the damn pillow in the first place!”

“Alright, we’re both at fault for the lamp!” He jested back.

“I’m so happy I’m here.” Oliver couldn’t help blurting out.

Emmet broke into a loving smile as his heart melted, “I am too, Schatz. Come along, you can help me make breakfast.”

~~~

“When exactly does Rene and Angie come back tomorrow?”

“Pff, late at night, fuck if I know when. You want me gone already?” He smirked at the Aussie.

“Goddamn, I’m just making conversation… I don’t want that frog to be pissy if he sees you’re still with us.”

“Don’t be rude, Mundee.” Emmet quickly barked.

“He was hostile first, I’ve got reason.”

Oliver sat up, “Hey, he’s trying to be cool about it now. He’s actually calling you by your names now.”

Emmet raised an eyebrow, “Is he now?”

Oliver made a noise of affirmation as he stuffed a biscuit into his mouth.

“That is certainly an improvement, wouldn’t you agree, Mundee?”

Mundee grunted into his cup.

“Mundee.”

“I’ll believe it when I hear it.”

Oliver decided to change topics, “You two working today?”

“Always working...” Emmet mumbled.

“My off day today, you got work?”

“Yup. Darling’s making me stay in late today.”

Mundee growled something under his breath.

Emmet’s face was unmoved, “I’ll make sure to give him a thorough checkup if he steps into my office.”

“... Emmet.”

“Yes, liebling?”

“If you end up in jai--”

“Who says they’ll find out it’s me?” Emmet asked innocently, “For all they know it could be an incurable illness.”

“Emmet.” He repeated in a much stronger tone.

“Trust me, Mundee, I’m a doctor. I know what I’m doing.”

Mundee took a long sip of his coffee, glaring at Oliver vainly holding in his giggle fit. He shook his head, “It’s amazing you left your ex alive.”

“Hmm…” He snickered to himself, “Well, he didn’t leave without a scratch, I can tell you that much.”

“Should I be worried?”

Emmet swallowed, “I don’t see why you should be. You’re not planning anything, are you?”

Mundee met his eyes, “Darlin, I wouldn’t dream of it.”

A satisfied and sweet smile spread across the doctor’s face. “I know.”

Oliver spoke up with words complemented with unbridled genuity, “I love you guys.” 

The two looked at him with flushed flustered faces.

Mundee looked like he was gasping for breath, “Em, he’s too sweet. He’s gonna kill me.”

“You guys are being silly. Why are you so surprised?”

“We haven’t had you as a partner before, Schatz. I know the both of us are fortunate to have you here.”

It was Oliver’s turn now for his face to flare up. He mumbled into his orange juice, “Me too...”

~~~

Oliver couldn’t tell he was falling asleep while he mopped the hardwood floor. He yawned for the eighteenth time and rubbed his heavy lidded eyes. Darling had left an hour ago which seemed unchanging to Oliver, of how he would jump at any abrupt now, thinking it was the man about to scold him. Maggie stayed behind to help him with cleaning. There were three instances beforehand of Oliver falling asleep somewhere in the restaurant long enough that his mom or Rene called Maggie up to check up on him, since neither of his parents had the restaurant keys.

Maggie was finishing up cleaning the kitchen. Only a few more plates now… She glanced over at the boy who looked like he was about to fall over.

“Ollie?”

He only groaned in response.

“Would you like to leave? It’s past midnight. I think your ride is here by now.”

“But I’m not done...”

“I can take care of it.”

“Nooooo...”

“You’re going to get--” She watched him slip and fall onto his back on the wet flooring, “hurt.”

He extended his hand and gave her a thumbs up. “I’m fine...”

“You sure are.” Maggie put aside the dishes and trotted over to help the boy up. She guided him to the front door, “You’re going home and you’re going to crash on your bed, you hear me?”

“Yeahhh...”

“Good.” She propped the front door open. She looked around for any sort of car but found a motorcycle with a side car instead with two handsome men beside it.

Her eyebrows raised up as she whispered, watching them run over to them, “You brought in some good ones.”

“I know. I love em...”

Oliver didn’t give them a chance to open their mouths. He thrusted himself into their arms. The two looked as if they were going to keel over with worry.

Maggie waved their concern aside, “Trust me, he’s fine. He’s just tired and touch starved. I’m Maggie, by the way.”

“Maggie! I’m Emmet, this is Mundee. We’ve heard quite a bit about you.”

“Good things, I’m sure.”

Mundee nodded, “You’ve helped him while he’s at this hellhole.”

Maggie snorted, “I do what I can for my little man.”

“We thank you for it.”

“Just get out of here before Oliver falls asleep standing up.”

“I don’t want to go home...” Oliver whined from Emmet’s shoulder.

“We’ll figure something out, darlin, I promise.” Mundee patted his back, “Let’s go.”

~~~

Rene paced up and down along the bar with crossed arms and a frustrated frown. Angie stared at him blankly, “You know, dear, pacing isn’t going to make him come home faster.”

“I’m thinking about how to deal with Darling...”

“Do we need to go on another vacation?”

He stopped, flabbergasted, “Please, mon cheri, are you not worried?”

“Very! But I don’t pace.”

Rene shook his head and resumed pacing, “How do you think you would deal with this then? Hm?”

“Moving? Wait no, you tried that, didn’t you?”

He wiped his face, “Cher Seigneur, this is all my fault...”

“Rene, baby we will figure something out. But you are really stressing yourself over this. It ain’t healthy. What do I keep telling you?”

“To come back to it another day.”

“Right. With a fresh mind.”

He paused, “... Well, I can’t.”

She pouted, “Rene!”

“He’s getting gray hairs! And he’s in his twenties!”

The door opened as those words were released from his mouth. Rene turned to see Oliver riding on Mundee’s back and Emmet behind him. Rene awkwardly fixed his suit under the Aussie’s glare.

Angie quickly took charge, “Hello, boys. Thank you for bringing my baby home.”

“It was no trouble, Angie,” Emmet stepped forward and not-so-gently nudged Mundee who hummed in agreement, not taking his eyes off Rene.

“Ollie? Are you asleep up there?”

He shook his head.

“You can bring him down, Mundee.”

“Noooo,” Oliver moaned, holding tight to the Aussie.

“What’s wrong, baby?”

“I wanna go home...”

Emmet coughed, “Yes, we wanted to erm… discuss about that...”

“Take him then.” Rene piped up. All of them stared at the Frenchman. He adjusted his cufflinks, “He’s not happy here, so take him to where he is happy.”

“Who are you--Ow!” Mundee would have grabbed at the side Emmet jabbed his elbow into if he wasn’t still holding Oliver. “Bloody hell, Em! I could’ve dropped him!”

Emmet steadfastly ignored him, “Monsieur Rene, your change of heart is hard to swallow.”

“I know…” He licked his lips, “but please believe me when I say that I just want him to be happy. That is why I am going to take his place tomorrow morning.”

Angie whirled around, “Tu es con! Hell no!”

Rene’s eyes were as huge as the moon, “Mon--”

“Neither of you should be working for him!”

“One of us _has_ to! I put him into this mess and I can take him out!”

“Well, there has to be another way! You’re too unstable to work for Darling. You just got back on your meds.”

Rene huffed, thinking, “... There’s always murder.”

“No.”

“I can help with that,” Emmet stepped in with a grin full of malice.

Mundee and Angie joined in unison, “No.” 

Rene raised his hands in defeat, “Fine, we will discuss this later. Tomorrow morning, however, I will stop by to drop off Oliver’s luggage.”

Her dark expression turned pleasantly into surprise as Angie smiled, impressed, “That certainly is an improvement.”

“You agree with this, I hope.”

“You really asking that?”

Rene gave her a ghost of a smile.

“So you trust us with your son?” Mundee asked slowly, his gaze narrow.

“As long as he does, I will.”

“Danke, Monsieur Rene. Thank you, Angie,” Emmet urged the Aussie to turn, “Enough with the glaring, be grateful, Liebling.”

“Never said I wasn’t.”

“Thank them then.”

“... Thank you, Angie.”

Emmet resisted the temptation to slap him across the face. “... Close enough. Get to the motorcycle before Oliver falls off. I’ll be there in a moment.”

Emmet watched Mundee until the outside door was shut. He then turned to Angie, “Did you not say Rene was unstable?”

“Not in what you’re thinking, Emmet. He’s been suffering with depression.”

“I could tell. But I can see now that you’re not letting it control you as much. If your antidepressants are not working for you, do come see me. I can give you medication a lot stronger with less side effects. It’s still in processing but I can get you a sample to see how it treats you.”

Rene stared at him in shock, “You can? But you’re--”

“I have my connections, Monsieur Rene. Here, this is my secretary’s number. Do call me if you feel it to be necessary.”

“Th-thank you.”

Emmet smiled, “I will see you tomorrow morning then. Auf Wiedersehen and Guten Nacht.”


	10. Je Veux

The room was clean. The closet was bare. The bed seemed untouched by a living person. Articles of clothing were articularly placed around Rene, waiting to be packed into the suitcase that was already half full. 

This is not what Rene expected out of his life. In fact, he didn’t expect anything except a swift death. That wasn’t exactly behind him now. That thought was in the back of his mind now. The Frenchman was hyper focused on his task that he wouldn’t let Angie touch. This was his priority. Sharply picking up clothes, folding them, and placing them in a container. 

Rene wasn’t happy. He wasn’t upset either. He wasn’t sure what he felt, but he knew that it wasn’t emptiness. He had dinner with that feeling too often and neglected to pay the tab. It wasn’t his proudest moments, yet neither was this.

Ah, blasé, that was the word.

Guilty as well. He wasn’t sure if he should feel happy for Oliver. He was going to be away from him. Even though things were starting to be a bit more tolerable, Rene could not help thinking that Oliver would like it better if his dad wasn’t around.

Rene gave a wavering sigh. Don’t you remember what happened at the mall? Don’t think like that.

The urge to cry was strong whenever he thought about it. He hoped this proved to Oliver that he was trying.

Loud ringing emitted from his pocket that made Rene jump out of his subconscious and grab for his phone.

_Darling_

He nearly chose the big red hang up option but he hesitated. Rene accepted the call, “Hello.”

“I received your email, Leroy. I called to let you know that I am not happy.”

“Boo hoo.” He folded another shirt.

“Do you think it wise to sass me?”

“Excuse me, that meant to be in my head.”

“Like father, like son… Anyway, I don’t think you can fill your son’s place, Leroy.”

“I’m sorry you doubt me so without giving me a chance to prove it to you. I have sent you my resume. Normally, you make good decisions, Darling.”

Charles was quiet for a solid minute. Rene tried to withhold a laugh by biting his lip. 

“... You have all day tomorrow to prove that to me, Leroy. I want you no later than 6:30, capisce?”

“Comprendre.” Rene hung up when Darling was inhaling another breath to speak and he burst out laughing.

Upon hearing the rare noise, Angie rushed into Oliver’s room. Her eyes were wide with alarm and confusion. Slowly, she approached and knelt beside him.

She waited until his laughter eventually subsided. Rene gasped with a wide smile, “Hah, I hate him so much.”

Angie frowned slightly.

“Angeline, I know what you’re thinking.”

“You’re a psychic now?”

He looked over, “You’re worried.”

“Can you blame me?”

“Happy endings aren’t exactly commonplace.” 

Angie didn’t like the fact he said that with a nonchalant smile. “You deserve better.”

“And Darling deserves the chair, but I doubt that will happen.” Rene cupped her face, “This won’t last long. I promise.”

“You ain’t gonna kill him, are you?”

He patted her cheek and resumed his task, “That I can’t promise.”

She slapped his shoulder. It wasn’t a playful slap. Tears glistened in her eyes and his heart sank.

“I don’t like this, Rene...”

Silence held like a smog, thick and uncomfortable. Rene gently took her hand. “Angeline, you have made plenty of sacrifices to be here. I must do my own. I don’t want this to be Oliver’s life.”

“That doesn’t mean it should be your life now.”

“I am older and more experienced with these situations than he is. I can handle it. You do know this, yes?”

Angie shakily exhaled and nodded.

“This will be just a memory soon.” Rene kissed her on the cheek, “Je t'aime.”

“Je t'aime aussi.”

He gave her a weak smile and patted her hand. “... Do we have another suitcase?”

~~~

Rene hauled the two suitcases behind him as he traveled down the apartment hallway. His gaze shifted from note in his hand that read the address and room number to the doors. 309, 310, 311-- here we go.

With bated breath, he knocked the door and waited.

No answer.

Rene took a brief glance at his watch, it was 8:47. He knew Emmet was a doctor but did the other work? He knocked again a bit harder this time. This time he heard scuffling on the other side.

The door unlocked and a rugged Mundee poked his head out. His eyes narrowed at the sight of Rene. They observed each other. A cigarette was clutched in between the Aussie’s middle and index finger. Rene’s hands twitched and rubbed on the handles of the suitcases. Without a word, Mundee opened the door wider and gestured with his head to come in. Hesitantly, Rene obliged and he jumped at the door shutted roughly behind him.

Mundee took a drag from his cigarette, “I got something I wanna talk to you about, Rene.”

Here we go. “Yes, Mundee?”

“Even after that charade last night and the fact you’re here right now with Oliver’s belongings, I don’t trust you.”

Rene stood firmly, yet his hands fiddled with his cuff links out of nervous habit. “What am I to do then?”

“I don’t like quick change, Rene. Not that I’m complaining that Oliver is here. I just want to know your thoughts. That’s all.”

“I want my son happy--”

“See, if I asked you that when we started dating your son you wouldn’t have given that answer. I’m asking for your original answer.”

Rene cleared his throat, “I’d say for you to never come back to my establishment.”

“What changed then? Between then and now?”

“Darling hurt him--”

“According to Oliver, Darling was always abusing him.” Smoke emitted from his nose with a hint of frustration, “What changed, Rene?”

“There is a side of me, Mundee, that I chose to not acknowledge. I saw that side in Oliver… Yes, I was as you say ‘pissy’. Yes, I was an asshole. Yes, I didn’t care! I saw him becoming like me because of what I was doing!” Red filled his eyes, “When I saw him weak and vulnerable for the first time, I had no idea he was hiding that from me! That was the moment when I realized that my feelings for all this didn’t matter. What I wanted, it didn’t matter anymore.”

Mundee stared at Rene, watching the tears drip from his face. Quietly, he grabbed a box of tissues from the coffee table and extended it towards the Frenchman.

Rene took the tissue and blew his nose. He took a breath before speaking. “... Please tell me that Oliver is himself around you.”

“... He’s the sweetest man I’ve ever met.”

He nodded, “I was afraid of him losing that. I was scared I took that away from him.”

“If you did, I don’t think we’d be together like this.” Mundee awkwardly scratched his neck. This was the opposite what he expected to happen. With his rage clouding his conscious, he thought the two would be in an argument that Oliver would have to pull them out of. He felt guilty for thinking that now.

Rene took another breath to steady his voice, “Forgive me, I--”

“No, I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to get you to cry. At all.”

“Uhh...” The two looked over to see disturbed Oliver, clothed and with a towel around his shoulders. “What’s… goin’ on here?”

Mundee coughed, “May have uh, pushed him a bit. You’ve got clothes now.”

“Uh, thanks.” He yawned, stepping towards them, “In the future, Mun, you gotta ask for my permission to push my dad, okay? I mean, I know you hate him and all, but--”

“We got all that behind us, Ollie.” Mundee quickly said, sheepishly.

“Oh, cool-- Are, are you going to always cry when I call you my dad…?”

“I-I didn’t know I was...” Rene dabbed his eyes. “My apologies...”

Oliver smiled a little, “I hope those are at least happy tears--Yeah? Okay.” He patted his shoulder. “Do want to help unpack or do you need to get goin’?”

“I’m afraid I do need to head back. Your mother is not taking the circumstances very well.”

Oliver frowned, “I don’t like it either, you know.”

“I thought you were asleep during that conversation.”

“Was kind of hard to. At least tell me, you’re gonna give the fucker a punch for me.”

“I’ll give him more than that.”

Mundee shook his head, “You two are no better than Emmet.”

Oliver puffed out his chest. “You don’t want him dead?” 

“Yes, but I ain’t making plans to do it!”

“You ain’t any fun. Sorry, I’m keeping you. Don’t make me come back down there if you can’t make my ma happy.”

Rene huffed, “But of course.”

“And good luck, okay? Try not to come home with a black eye.”

“I think I can handle that.”

Oliver grabbed and pulled Rene into a quick embrace. He smiled, “Since I’m singin’ tonight, when you walk through that door, how about I give you something nice to listen to?”

“I’m sure your brothers will be pleased to hear that.”

“Eh, who cares about ‘em. Just hang in there, okay?”

“Alright.” Rene finally returned the smile. He looked to Mundee and offered his hand. “Do you mind if we start again?” 

Mundee blinked and slowly nodded, accepting and shaking his hand. “Thank you for stopping by.”

“And thank you for your hospitality.” Rene replied wryly. Swiftly, he let go and opened the door behind him, “Au Revoir. Until tonight.”

Mundee waited until the door closed to speak, “He’s got a sense of humor, alright. Asshole.”

Oliver snorted, “See? I told you he was alright.”

“Well, I believe ya now. I feel bad. I didn’t think I was pushing him that far...”

“Aw, babe,” Oliver crossed over to him and pecked the corner of his lip, “Congrats on making an old man cry.”

Mundee grabbed him before he had the chance to run to the bedroom, “Ohh-hoo! You made the biggest mistake, Ollie! You have forgotten that I am a tickle monster, ya bugger!”

“Noooooo!!!”

 

~~~

The sun was barely up when Rene arrived. He stepped out of his car and looked at the needlessly large restaurant and then at the back entrance for employees. He mentally prepared himself for whatever he was going to see or hear. 

This was for Oliver. He straightened his clothes and checked his watch to see he had arrived early. That should piss Darling off more. 

Well, no use stalling.

Rene walked through the door to be immediately greeted by Maggie.

“Good morning, Mr. Leroy. I’ve heard much about you from Oliver.”

Rene was briefly taken aback by her excited smile. “As I to you… Maggie, is it?”

“Yes. Sorry, I’m just happy you’re here.”

“I’m sure you’ll love to see me put Darling in his place.”

“Don’t say that too loud… But yes.” She lowered her voice, “Thank you for getting Oliver out of here. Here’s your apron.”

“Of course. Thank you.” He wrapped the cloth around his waist.

Maggie raised her voice and spoke with a professional tone, “I’m your supervisor, by the way, I’ll be teaching you the basics. I know you run your own business and everything but if Darling does see me working you then we’re both getting yelled at. If you will follow me please, I will show you what you’ll be doing today.”

~~~

The words of Can’t Help Falling in Love flowing from Oliver’s voice echoed throughout the bar with an acoustic guitar accompanying him, courtesy of Riley. Oliver continued to glance over his two lovers as he sang. Yes, this was definitely him serenading them on the job and his boyfriends were definitely enjoying it as much as he was. Their giddy smiles sent butterflies down into his stomach.  
There were moments he expect Rene to be glaring at him, but occasionally he had to remind himself that this wasn’t like it used to be. That made him feel better. So he proceeded to give his heart out to his voice.

It was near the end of the song that the ringing bell caught his attention. Oliver’s voice nearly hitched at the sight of Rene walking in. His clothes were a little rustled. It was a little hard to tell with the dim lights to see his face but he knew by the way he walked that he was tired. He sat down at the bar and Angie quickly made her way over to him.

Oliver took a glance over at Riley and nodded. Riley merely shrugged, clearly bored. Oliver ignored it. This was something he promised for Rene and it might as well be the last song for the night to give it his all.

“I hope you guys don’t mind me switching it up a bit for my last song.” Oliver took a swing from his water bottle, “This lil number is called Je Veux by Zaz.”

His eyes caught Rene straightening up in his seat. Oliver smiled to himself, “It’s a great song about relationships, it’s usually more jazzy than what I’m about to do, but I hope you all like it.”

Angie wrapped her arms around Rene. She smiled at his dumbfounded expression. “He’s playing our song, sweetie.”

“I hear him… I didn’t know this is what he meant by that...” His sentence fell apart.

“Oh, baby, are you crying?”

When he didn’t give a reply, Angie squeezed him and kissed him on the cheek. She gave him a moment as they listened to their son’s voice.

It wasn’t until after the song had ended did Rene return the embrace.

“Did he hurt you at all?”

“Nearly. Merely tussled with my clothes.”

“Don’t lie. I saw the way you were walking.”

“I was pushed onto a table by a customer, it wasn’t him.”

“The hell was that for?”

“Neither of us were watching where we were going. I’m fine, mon cheri.”

Angie huffed and gave him another kiss. “Would wine help?”

“Wine sound wonderful.”

“You stay there. I’ll get you some.”

It was the moment that Angie walked away did Oliver pop up, “Hey, you okay?”

“I’ve been worse.” He quickly turned the subject around, “Thank you. I was not expecting that song. It was lovely.”

“Yeah, I’m glad.” Oliver gave him a sad smile, “You just focus on livin’ alright? I’ve got to take these two drunks back to the house--”

“I ain’t drunk!” Mundee yelled a little too loudly.

Oliver rolled his eyes, “So, I’ll see you later, okay? You take care of yourself.”

“As to you, don’t let them get too carried away.”

“I got them, don’t worry. C’mon guys.”

“Bye sweetie!” Angie called out as she walked back from the kitchen.

Rene watched Oliver and his lovers get up and waved them goodbye as they left the bar. He didn’t feel blase anymore. His son was happy and that made him feel good. He smiled at Angie as he took and downed the glass of wine.

 

End.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all who stuck around waiting for this to be finished! Thank you for your patience, I had a lot of life I had to get a hold of. <3


End file.
